


The Valley

by Cardinal_Daughter



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, AU Retelling, Angst, F/M, Romance, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 190,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinal_Daughter/pseuds/Cardinal_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was always meant to be the Dark One; but he was never meant to walk that path alone. AU Retelling of Rumplestiltskin's life if he'd had True Love within his grasp from the beginning. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Year

Chapter 1: Another Year

The sunlight streamed through the window, covering his face in a warm embrace. Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as the light blinded him. He reached up with one hand, brushed his hair out of his face and wiped at his eyes thoughtlessly. He sat up, stretching his back to adjust from the uncomfortable position he'd slept in the night before and groaned as his body adjusted to being awake.

Standing, he pulled on his woolen shift and tunic, brushing the dust off of them carefully. He pulled on his shoes, old and ragged but still functional and began to prepare for his day. Normally he awoke before dawn, preparing a small breakfast – when he had the means to do so – and afterward he would gather his materials, sit at the spinning wheel he'd inherited from the spinster who raised him when his father took off, and spin the rest of the morning away. Today he'd decided to allow himself a couple extra hours of sleep. He felt he deserved it. It was his birthday, after all.

The change in his schedule threw him somewhat, but he skipped breakfast – he was used to forgoing meals – and sat at the wheel to spin. The steady rhythm of the wood spinning and the wool in his hands sliding gently from his fingertips into the mechanism lulled him into an easy mindset. He felt as calm as a babe being rocked at his mothers' breast, and he allowed his mind to wander to how he would like to celebrate his day.

A small party, with a few friends and some cheap ale and a plate of small cakes from the local bakery would be the perfect end to such a day. Alas, he had no extra money for cakes or ale. And, being the son of a coward, he had no friends either. But he had his thoughts, and he could imagine such a party, with people surrounding him, patting him hard on the back and congratulating him on surviving yet another year.

And that was it, wasn't it? Surviving. It was all he knew, and he wasn't even particularly good at it. While the nobles and the wealthy celebrated the fact that they'd lived another year, and toasted to more time to enjoy their lives of finery and splendor, the people of his village- and so many villages across the lands – celebrated the fact that they'd survived. The more pessimistic of men, often drunk, would question whether it was a feat worth celebrating.

Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but agree. He did not begrudge his life; not in the slightest. He was grateful for what he had, but he was always very aware that just beyond his reach was a world that contained more.

And more was something he knew he would never amount to. He would never have a sturdy, warm home nor a wife to share his bed with. The former was not so bad, but the latter….

He was past the age most men were when they married. Today marked his twenty-ninth year and many of the men who married were slightly younger. In the village they married young so there would be more children produced to help in the family trades. He knew he was ready for a wife, and he knew just who he would like to have as such, but he pushed those thoughts aside. No use in dwelling on things he could not have.

He spun for most of the morning and when he finished he wound up the wool he had carefully spun and placed it in a basket. Grabbing his shabby cloak that was hardly useful in its old age, he left his shack and made his way down to the market, intending to sell his wares. The market in the village was a busy place, people crowded in the narrow pathway, trying to reach vendors who were selling fresh produce, trinkets, breads and cheeses. Rumple pushed his way through the crowd, receiving several scornful looks from those who even deigned to look his way, and finally came to the end of the row of booths where his destination lay.

He approached the booth at the end, occupied by a gruff and portly man with a thick beard and even thicker eyebrows. He was an unfriendly fellow, but he was fair in his prices and though Rumplestiltskin held the man in little regard, he depended on him to buy his wool, and therefore said nothing out of turn.

"What have ye got here today, Spinner?" The man asked, his voice dry and rough.

"S-Some wool," Rumplestiltskin stuttered out softly. He was not skilled at bargaining, and his nerves always pushed their way to the surface any time he was supposed to be the least bit forceful. He was not the only spinner in the village, but certainly the most disliked, and if he did not accept the man's offer, he knew there would be others who would gladly take it, even if their work was half the quality of his.

Everyone knew Rumplestiltskin was a skilled spinner, but no one desired to admit it. He was always paid less than what his wool was worth, but he found he did not have the heart to argue with those who could just as easily drive him from his home, son of a coward that he was.

The vendor, Ebert, grabbed the wool from Rumplestiltskin's basket and examined it closely, feeling the material with his rough, thick fingers. He sniffed indignantly and shoved his hand into his purse. He pulled out six shillings and held them out for Rumplestiltskin, who gaped at the amount.

"Six shillings?" He gasped. "Ebert, my wool is worth more than that and you know it!"

Ebert gave him a hard glare and reached into his pocket and pulled out one more shilling and slammed them down onto the table, rocking his entire booth. "You ought to be grateful I give you that, Spinner," he said harshly. "You forget who you are. You're the son of a coward and you're no less a coward than your father. I can take my business elsewhere if you think you're too good for my coin."

Biting back the tears that stung his eyes, Rumplestiltskin slid the coins off the table into his hand, keeping his head down in shame. Ebert was right. He had no other choice but to accept what the man offered, even if his wool was worth more. He could not afford to be picky. He hefted his basket into his hand and turned away, counting the money again. Seven shillings. He had supplies he needed, and he had to eat. It would not be hard to decide what to buy; he knew how to make his miniscule earnings last and this time would be no exception.

He pushed his way back through the market, trying to make his way to the vendors he needed items from without any problems. He managed to get some food; cheese and bread and some dried fruit, but that left hardly anything for more wool. While some spinners were able to afford to buy and raise their own sheep, Rumplestiltskin was not so fortunate. He was saving up for one, but he had not yet managed to save enough of his earnings to even buy the smallest, most pathetic sheep.

He returned home and stored his food, then took one shilling and dropped in in the small clay cup he used as his fund for a sheep. He placed the jar under the basket that held his spinning supplies to keep it hidden. After securing it, he grabbed a jug that held the last bit of ale he'd purchased a few weeks ago. He'd saved this bit just for today and after he gathered a few bits of dried fruit onto his plate, he settled at his wheel and began to spin as he ate his birthday supper.

He spun until late that night, hoping to use the last bit of the material to make a worthwhile trip back to the marketplace the next day. He spun the last of his wool and sighed heavily as he wound it up and placed it in his traveling basket, ready to go first thing in the morning. Perhaps if he could get to Ebert right after he'd set up he could catch him in a better mood, if such a thing were possible with the hateful man.

He tipped back the jug and finished off the last of his ale, sighing in bittersweet delight at the novelty drink he could only afford of the most special of occasions. He wiped his hand against the corners of his mouth and looked down at the empty jug in his hands. He's enjoyed the small treat, but it was time to go to bed and rest for the next day. He'd allowed himself one day to work less than normal, but that was not something he could get in the habit of doing. He couldn't afford to.

He returned the jug to where he'd retrieved it and pulled off his shift and tunic. He had no nightgown, and so he slept in his pants. He removed his shoes and crawled into his small bed. It was tiny and uncomfortable but he was grateful for it nonetheless. He looked over at the candle he'd lit when he came home and watched the flame dance and bounce contentedly where it stood. He wished he could be like the flame, bright and burning and beautiful. But he was Rumplestiltskin, and no one wanted or needed him. He was alone in this world and he could not forget it; not even for a day.

He sighed and blew out the candle, letting his loneliness wash over him as the darkness settled over the shack he called home.


	2. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched her for a moment, not believing that she was standing before him, asking to spend time with him.

Chapter 2: A Visitor 

Rumplestiltskin wandered through the market, intent on reaching Ebert's stall. He had awoke earlier than normal in an effort to reach the man before the crowd of people swept in and overwhelmed the place. He carried his basket, heavy with the wool he'd spun the night before. He felt certain that he would make more money this day, and the hope gave him a slight spring to his step.

He reached the stall, where Ebert was just finishing setting up and Rumplestiltskin dropped the basket on the counter with a slight thud. "I've got some more for you this morning," he proclaimed proudly, though his voice was still soft and easily missed.

Ebert gave him a scowl, clearly no more pleasant in the morning than he was at any other time of day and rummaged through the basket, examining each spool of wool before grunting brutishly and pulled out his purse.

"Yer wool's good," he growled. "Shame yer not."

Sighing gruffly, Rumplestiltskin replied, half begging, "Just tell me what you'll take for it and I'll be out of your hair."

Ebert pulled out a silver coin and a few copper ones and tossed them Rumplestiltskin's way. He scrambled to catch and collect them, holding the pieces in his hand with reverence. He looked up at the man with wide, grateful eyes. "Thank you!" He exclaimed as he recounted the money in his hand. It was more than he'd held in some time, the silver shining in his palm like a beacon of hope. He could do much with this, he knew, and he was already calculating how much he could save and how much he would spend.

"You've made yer money, now get outta my way," Ebert snarled. "Yer ugly mutt'll keep away the other customers."

Rumplestiltskin nodded, not bothering to mind the harsh tone of the man and made his way back through the square. He walked past the bakery, and where the day before he'd been so distraught over the poor profit he'd made to notice the smell, today his senses were more alert, and the smell of fresh bread and pastries filled his nose, causing his mouth to water. A small cake wouldn't cost more than a couple shillings, and he had that plus the silver coin he cherished deeply, so he decided a small treat was in order, his good mood preventing his usual good judgment from keeping him from wasting even one shilling.

He entered the small bakery. The smell was wonderful and he eyed the cakes and breads hungrily, unable to decide on what he wanted to try the most.

A woman came out to greet him, wiping her hands on an old rag. "See something you like?" She asked and Rumplestiltskin knew that even though she no doubt knew who he was, she would not be as rude as Ebert.

He pointed to a sweet cake, and requested it. She handed it to him and he placed in in his basket then offered her two of his shillings. She took them with a hesitant half-smile and then turned away. He knew he was not welcome now that she'd received his money so he left as quickly as he could, determined to go home, enjoy his treat and then get back to work. He would need to purchase some more lamb's wool from the local farm, and that trip was a good half days journey, if he was able to catch the farmer on a good day and purchase the wool for a reasonable price.

He trudged back home, his spirits lowered but his appetite roaring now that he knew he had something pleasant to eat. So wrapped up in thoughts of his treat, he failed to notice the young woman walking the opposite direction of him until it was too late. They bumped into each other, and in her surprise she let go of bundle she was carrying, and the parchments scattered to the ground. He looked at her in horror, then down to the mess on the ground, knelt down and began collecting the papers, mumbling numerous apologizes.

The girl knelt down beside him and began picking up the items as well, smiling and assuring him that it was certainly not a problem. "I'm clumsy anyway," she expressed as she took the parchments he had collected for her. They stood and he stared at her with burning cheeks. Of all the people he would collide with and send sprawling, it would be _her_. The one girl he longed to notice him; and she finally had, though he had made a complete fool of himself.

"I do apologize," he said again, cursing himself for being unable to say anything else. "I should watch where I'm going."

"It's all right," she said with a giggle. "I should do the same." She focused her gaze on him for a moment before asking, "You're Rumplestiltskin, right? The spinner?"

He nodded, swallowing heavily and wishing he weren't so foolish. "Yes," he said, "I am."

She smiled. "My father speaks well of your wool. He claims that you have a real talent for the wheel."

He opened his mouth to thank her but she interrupted, "Oh, where are my manners! I'm-"

"Belle," he answered, then wished he hadn't.

She blinked in surprise and he tried not to sigh aloud at his foolishness. "I see you around the village," he said sheepishly. "You help your father."

She nodded. "I do. I was sent to purchase more parchment and ink. We never seem to be able to keep enough!"

He said nothing in return, but shifted nervously. After a moment he spoke, unsure of where the words were coming from, "I bought a cake. From the bakery," he said knowing he sounded foolish, "Would you perhaps like to share it with me?"

She seemed conflicted, and shifted the parchment in her arms. "I have to get this to my father," she said apologetically. "Another time, perhaps?"

He bit back his disappointment and nodded. "Yes, perhaps." He knew there would not be another time; this would be the only cake he would be able to afford for the year.

She smiled and stepped around him. "I'm sorry, but I must go. Papa is expecting me back. I hope you enjoy your cake!"

He nodded, his tongue tangled behind his lips. She turned and walked away and he watched as her figure shrank as she made her way through the village to reach her father. Rumplestiltskin sighed. He'd watched Belle from a distance for a long while, and she never failed to take his breath away. She was a becoming young woman, kind and generous and he doubted she would ever give him a second glance. He could only image all the younger, more attractive and amiable boys who no doubt vied for and received her attention. And why would she pay attention to him, with so many other – better – options? It was true that she was not rich, but her father's occupation offered them more income than many villagers, and he knew that her father would not allow his daughter to marry a man who could barely provide for himself, let alone a wife as well.

He resigned himself to eating his cake alone, a prospect that now seemed less enjoyable now that he knew he could have shared it with the lovely Belle, and he returned to his shack, where he placed the cake on a plate, suddenly not quite so hungry after all.

Rumplestiltskin decided to postpone his trip to the sheep farmer he where bought his wool. He could wait one more day, especially now that he had an entire silver piece to work with. The prospect of all her could do with that little silver piece lifted his spirits. Perhaps he could buy a large amount of wool and make an equally large profit. He was sometimes able to get the wool for a good price, and he felt sure that he could manage to do so tomorrow. He felt his confidence lift slightly, then chastised himself for allowing the money to get to his head. "Don't expect too much," he reminded himself, "Or you'll be disappointed."

He piddled around his home, straightening up the messes he'd left the night before when he'd been too tired and downtrodden to worry about tidiness. He took pride in his little shack. He'd inherited it from the spinsters who raised him and he worked hard to ensure that it was a sturdy and tidy place. It was his only sanctuary, the only place where he felt welcome and somewhat at ease. It would not do to treat it like a pig's sty.

He had just finished his chores and was about to prepare for his journey the next day when he heard a soft knock at his door. He paused. No one ever came to see him, not unless they absolutely had to, and that was rare at best. He did not know who could want something of him, especially now that it was growing dark; but he straightened out his clothing to make himself look presentable and made his way to his door. He felt his jaw drop slightly when he saw Belle standing there, arms crossed in front of her and looking somewhat sheepish.

"Belle!" He exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

She offered him a small smile and replied, "I know this isn't exactly proper, but I feel bad about running off like this afternoon. I just wanted to come by and apologize for my rudeness. Perhaps we could talk for a bit?"

He watched her for a moment, not believing that she was standing before him, asking to spend time with him. Never in all his dreams had he actually believed Belle, the most lovely girl in the village, would ever look at him.

He'd gone to her father's shop before, needing his services. Being one of the few literate men in the village, her father, Maurice, was not nobility of any kind, but he was well off as far as the town understood. He charged reasonably, and he was skilled in a variety of trades, having briefly served in the king's army as a lad. When he'd left the service, he returned to the village where he'd grown up and put the skills he acquired while he'd been away to good use.

It made him quite a respected and wealthy man.

His daughter, who had always been an exceptionally bright child, had grown up under her father's tutelage and had learned to read and write at an early age - something not many villagers were able to do, and certainly not the women. Many knew enough to sign their name, but just barely, and recently Belle had taken to teaching the children their letters and how to spell and write their names.

She did it for fun.

Rumplestiltskin recalled the first time he's ever seen her. She had been just fourteen at the time, barely old enough to be considered for marriage, and he'd known in that instant that if he ever gathered enough courage to pursue a wife, he would pursue her. He had yet to say a word to her, though, knowing it would end in heartache. Her father would never allow her to marry someone such as he.

And yet here she stood at his doorstep, wanting to be invited inside and he couldn't find the words to neither summon her in nor send her away. Though sending her away was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Finally, he recovered enough to motion her inside, and she smiled brightly as she stepped past him, into the shabby home he now detested. It would never be good enough for someone like Belle and he cursed his poverty and his inability to make more for himself.

He wanted to be the kind of man Belle wanted to be with. Not the kind she came to visit out of pity.

She looked around for a moment, then turned back and offered him another charming smile. "Your home is lovely," she declared, and he must have given her an incredulous look because she pressed on, "I'm serious," she said. "You take care of your home. It's quite lovely."

"Thank you," he managed to choke out, his throat suddenly dry and in need of refreshing.

They stood awkwardly for a moment until finally Rumplestiltskin collected himself and gestured nervously over to the table on which the cake sat.

"I, um," he stuttered, "I hadn't gotten around to eating it yet. I've been…busy." He cleared his throat nervously and continued, "Would you, um, like to share it with me?"

She smiled. "That would be nice. Thank you," she said as she made herself comfortable on one of the chairs near her. Rumple watched her, amazed that she was here, and when she looked up at him expectantly he stumbled over to the table, retrieved a small cutting knife, and sliced the cake in two.

He grabbed another clay plate, slid one piece onto it and made his way to her. He offered her the bigger piece, desperate to please her, and she took it from him with a nod of thanks. They ate in silence for a moment and Rumplestiltskin treasured every bite. It had been a long time since he had indulged in such a treat, and now that he had Belle here to share it with him, he wondered if things could possibly get any better.

"The summer solstice celebration begins tomorrow evening," Belle mused aloud. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at her with surprise. He'd forgotten about the solstice. It would be a great party, with food and dancing and merriment all throughout the night. He usually went, but only for a couple hours before returning home to his lonesomeness.

"Are you going?" Rumplestiltskin asked, kicking himself for asking such an obvious question. Of course she was going. She'd been the one to bring it up.

If she noticed his foolishness, she did not seem to mind. "I am," she said with a smile, "I look forward to it every year."

He nodded, taking another small bite of his cake. He wondered if he should ask her to spend time with him during the festival, but he reminded himself that he was a coward – a poor coward – and she no doubt had already received plenty of lads wishing for a moment of her time. But then, she was here and perhaps the thought of her agreeing to let him escort her was not so farfetched after all.

"This may seem rather forward," he said with a nervous cough, "And I apologize if I offend. And you can most certainly say no, but would you permit me to escort you there?"

He swallowed hard, waiting for her rejection. He was sure it would come. He risked a glance at her, blinking in surprise to see that she was staring at him with a large smile. Could it be she wanted to spend time with him? "It's not forward at all!" She exclaimed. "I would love to have you accompany me." He exhaled sharply, disbelief gripping him. She'd said yes?

Convinced he'd heard her wrong, he heard himself ask, "Are you sure? I'm not the most well-liked man in the village."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, fie. Let them think what they will. If they don't take the time to get to know you, then what right do they have to say hateful things about you. You are kind, from what I've seen, and I would be more than happy to let you accompany me."

He grinned a toothy grin and no longer cared how foolish he looked. Belle had agreed to let him spend time with her at the festival and suddenly he felt his loneliness and bitterness melt away. She had agreed to spend time in his company. She had chosen him over everyone else. He'd never felt so wanted. So welcome.

She glanced at him and blushed. "Do you dance?"

He blinked. "Not normally, no."

She nodded and he could see disappointment flash through her eyes. "Did you want to dance tomorrow?" He asked cautiously. She glanced up at him and smiled sheepishly.

"Now I'm the one being forward," she chuckled. "But I would – only if you want to though! I have no desire to make you uncomfortable."

"I would like nothing more than to dance with you," he declared loudly, then flung his hand over his mouth as he realized how ridiculous he'd sounded. He was a foolish man, but somehow his idiocy shone when Belle was near. He wanted nothing more than to bury his head between his legs and pretend he hadn't just blurted out something so silly.

Belle giggled and his cheeks burned. She stood and carried her plate back to the table, and set it down with care. Turning back around, she made her way to the door and paused, rocking on her heels.

"I should return home," she whispered at length. "Father will be worried if I do not return soon. He doesn't know I'm here."

Rumplestiltskin stood and joined her at the door. "I have no wish to get you in trouble," He said softly.

"Don't worry about me," she said gently. She reached for the door then paused again and glanced back to him, "I'll see you tomorrow evening?"

"Yes," he breathed. She smiled one last time and then she was gone.

He shut the door and pushed the lock in place, securing the door before moving to prepare for bed. He would rise early and rush to the farmer's lot, where he would gather as much wool as he could carry, then be home by noon. He would need to go to the river as well and gather water so that he could bathe. He wanted to look his best for the festival tomorrow, and more importantly, for Belle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. Some dialogue in this story is taken directly from the episodes. I claim no ownership of those lines. All original characters, events, and places belong to me.
> 
> Thank you for the views, kudos, and love! I appreciate it very much! 
> 
> Chapter 3 will be up November 1.


	3. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are by far the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he said, "The stars are nothing compared to you."

Chapter 3: Under the Stars

Rumplestiltskin rose early, eager to start the day. He skipped eating his morning meal again, something he knew he would regret later that day. After he dressed he wrapped up a bit of bread and cheese in some cloth and stuck it in his basket, then stepped out into the pale light of morning to make his way to the sheep farmer.

It was several miles to the farm, and normally Rumplestiltskin took his time, enjoying the solitude and silence as he walked the beaten path toward his destination. Today however, his steps were quick as he wanted nothing more than to return home. Thoughts of an evening with Belle blurred out all else.

How happy he was to know that he would be spending time with her, and of her own volition! He could hardly believe it himself, and he allowed his cheerful mood to settle around him like his cloak. He felt warm and content and not even the chill of the morning air could bother him. He began to whistle a merry tune as he walked to the famer's land.

When he arrived a strong and sturdy lad by the name of Hagan greeted him. "Good morrow, Rumplestiltskin," the man greeted, and Rumplestiltskin took a moment to assess the man. He seemed in a pleasant mood, and so Rumple decided he might be able to get a good deal.

"Good morrow," he replied with a nod. Hagan regarded him for a moment then motioned for Rumplestiltskin to follow him.

"Yer after more of my wool, eh?" Hagan stated with a slight, harsh laugh and Rumplestiltskin nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir. It's fine quality; best I've ever worked with." He hoped the compliment would set Hagan in even better spirits.

"Don't be kissin' my boot, now," Hagan said gruffly. "Let's see how much you have and I'll ensure you get a good deal. I'm feelin' generous today."

"Well, the festival is tonight," Rumplestiltskin declared and Hagan guffawed.

"You ever see me at that festival?" He asked boisterously. "I ain't in the way of socializin' with my customers. 'Sides, the missus is with child again, so I'll be dealin' with her after I'm finished with the flock."

Hagan's wife, a petite thing not much older than Belle, remained pregnant, or so it seemed to Rumplestiltskin. This would make their seventh child in as many years, but Rumplestiltskin knew there was pride in having sons to take over the trade.

"Congratulations," Rumplestiltskin acknowledged genuinely. "I'm sure you're quite proud."

"I'll be proud if she can give me a boy," he commented gruffly. "Damn woman's given me girls so far and what in the god's names am I supposed to do with 'em? Gotta come up with a dowry for 'em and that'll be a pain right there. Sons is the way to go, if you ask me."

Rumplestiltskin didn't agree, but he didn't want to insult the man who him the wool he spun, so he claimed he felt the same and took his goods. He paid the farmer for his troubles, lamenting the loss of the silver coin but grateful for the thirteen shillings that were left from it. Pocketing his change, he turned to make his way back home.

He stopped when he was halfway home and sat a few paces off the path, enjoying his bread and cheese. It was near midday, and the sun was now beating down upon him without mercy. He wiped the sweat off his brow and sighed as he swallowed the last of his small lunch. He would need to hurry if he wanted to get home in time to finish his chores before he spent his evening with the lovely Belle.

With her on his mind again, he grabbed his basket and rushed home as quickly as he could. The basket was heavy, but he hardly noticed. The thought of Belle made him feel nothing but joy.

He made it back to his shack and placed the basket of wool next to his spinning wheel. He would need to prepare the wool and lanolin before he could begin spinning the batch, so he set to work, preparing enough wool to last him several days. He had other things to do today, and he did not want to get caught up in his work.

He worked hard, preparing the sheep's wool to be spun. Finally he stopped, looking up to get an idea of the time. When he realized where the sun was positioned, he cursed and began cleaning up his mess. Once everything was put away and tidied, he grabbed a wooden bucket and rushed down to the creek. He dipped the bucket into the water, and pulled it back up, water splashing him as he did so. He made his way back to his shack, slowed down by the weight of the water. When he arrived he poured some into a clay pitcher to save, and then poured the rest into the small black kettle over the fireplace. He lit the logs, waited for the water to heat, and then stripped himself of his clothing. Then he grabbed one of the few clean rags he had and dipped it into the water and began to scrub himself clean.

He had no soap - it was a luxury he could not often afford, but he scrubbed himself raw, hoping that some of the smell from the past couple days would wash off. He did not want to smell unpleasant in front of Belle, and he was sure that when she had visited him yesterday he had done just that.

He rang the rag over his head, allowing the water to wet his hair, which instantly made him feel better, and he grabbed a towel and began to dry off, rubbing it over his hair first. When he was dry, he went to the small chest he had beside his bed and pulled out a second shirt - the only other one to his name - and pulled it over his head. He pulled his pants and shoes back on and took the other shirt and dipped it in the kettle. He rang it out, then took it outside to hang on the small line he had put up for the infrequent occasion when he washed his clothing.

Deciding that would have to do, he returned to his house and sat down to wait. Then he began to fret. He hadn't asked if she would meet him here, or if he should collect her from her father's house. Would they meet at the festival? He did not know and now he wasn't sure what to do.

He sat and waited for some time, idly playing with the tufts of sheep's wool. He fingered the softness, enjoying the feel and decided that he would own his own sheep one day. It would be a wonderful investment, he knew, but until he could afford to buy a sheep and have enough money to care for it as well as himself, he knew he could not do it. He was determined however, and something in him stirred at the thought of becoming more successful. He knew riches were just a dream, but he could make a decent living for himself, if he truly applied himself. He may have to eat scraps for a time, but if he could purchase a sheep and have his own wool he felt maybe he would be worth Belle's interest. Now he was just a poor spinner with hardly anything to show for the long hours he put in, and he had no idea how the beautiful Belle had even noticed his existence.

The festival was about to start; he could hear music playing lightly and children screaming and running. He could even smell food and his mouth watered at the thought of having a juicy piece of lamb's leg or some salted ham. His stomach rumbling, he grabbed the clay cup that held his meager savings and dug out a couple shillings. One last splurge before he buckled down and began truly saving up for a sheep, he decided. He would enjoy the night with Belle, then he would settle down and get to work. He was glad for the motivation. He'd lacked it for some time, the knowledge that he would never amount to anything a weight that seemed to prevent him from truly putting himself into his work.

Belle made him feel light. She made him want to _do_ something; to _be_ someone.

He pocketed his coins, then hastily checked that his pants did not have holes in them where the coins could fall out. That would be truly embarrassing, losing his money in such a careless manner. When he was satisfied that his money would not escape him, he grabbed his cloak and left his home, intent on finding Belle. She wanted to spend time with him, and he was going to ensure that she did.

He ventured through the crowd, keeping his eyes open for any sign of her. When he did not see her, he made his way toward her home, hoping that she was there. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the entire evening searching for her. As he walked, he realized that he had no token to give her. If he wanted to do this properly, he should have something to give her, but what? He looked around, wondering if he should sacrifice some coin and buy her a small trinket when his eyes fell on the field behind the market where wild flowers grew. There were lovely shades of pinks, reds, and purples; and Rumplestiltskin knew that they would be perfect for her. He strode past some of the stalls where men and women were calling out to him to sample and purchase their goods, but he ignored them and began scanning the field for the finest flowers of the bunch. He picked a small handful, enough to show the variety of types and colors but not enough that she would have to awkwardly carry them the entire night. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small leather strap that he sometimes used to tie back his long hair when he was hard at work and tied the bunch together. It wasn't ideal, but it would do.

He turned back and walked for a few minutes toward her home near the middle of the village. It was not a fine house, but it was better than his. It was bigger, though not by much; and Rumple was again reminded of just how little he would be able to provide for her, should he ever gain enough courage to ask for her hand.

He came near the door, but before he could reach it, the door opened and Belle swept out, calling out a farewell to her father. She turned and started to see Rumplestiltksin standing there, the small bouquet clutched tightly in his grasp.

"You startled me!" She said with a laugh as she took a step toward him. He swallowed nervously and held out his hand, offering her the flowers.

"Um, here. If you'll have them," he said in a shaking voice. She smiled and took the flowers from him, holding them gently.

"Why, thank you," she said as she giggled and dipped into a small curtsey. Rumplestiltskin bowed slightly, her lightheartedness making him feel warm and relaxed. He had worried so much about what she would think that he hadn't taken the time to consider that she would actually like his efforts at chivalry.

"I'm going to put these in some water," she said as she turned to go back inside. "I'll only be a moment."

He nodded and waited for her to return. He could hear her fumbling about inside, followed by a masculine grumble and light laughter. She returned, clutching a shawl that she had not had before and he noticed she now wore one of the pretty pink flowers in her hair. Rumple felt himself swell with pride, knowing that the flowers had pleased her. The flower in her hair was lovely, and he took it as a sign that she intended to remain close to him throughout the evening.

He offered her his arm, proud that he remembered to do so and she took it gladly. "Shall we?" He asked as he led her away from her home and toward the bustle of people that were enjoying the celebration.

They walked together for some time, and Rumplestiltskin allowed her to visit the booths that caught her eye, as he stood silently by her side as she looked at trinkets and talked to the vendors happily. He enjoyed watching her, clearly in her element. She was a social person and seemed to enjoy being around others. There was hardly a person she met that she did not at least bid good evening to, and he felt privileged that she had chosen to give him the special treat of being her solitary companion for the evening. Several young men approached her and spoke to her, often taking her hand and kissing it. Rumple would scowl at them, but to these young men he seemed invisible until Belle declined their offers to go with them. She looped her arm through Rumplestiltskin's, saying that she was quite happy with the company she was keeping.

The young men seemed downtrodden, but she offered them a smile and a polite nod, and it seemed enough to appease them for the time. Rumplestiltskin wondered why she did not go with some of them, especially the tall, brawny lad who towered over them both and was clearly one of the wealthier members of the village. But just as she had done with the other lads, she politely dismissed him, claiming Rumplestiltskin owed her a dance. She vowed she was not going to let go of him until he'd made good on his word.

"You did agree to dance with me," she reminded him as the tall lad stalked away from them.

He remembered. He knew how to dance, though he had not done so in many years. He hoped he would remember the steps and not make a fool out of himself – or embarrass Belle.

"I did," he agreed. "And I will."

She smiled. "Good."

The dancing began after night fell, when enough ale and sweet wine had been consumed to loosen the limbs and tongues of even the most stoic of residents. The musicians of the town, a group of about ten people playing a variety of instruments, played lighthearted songs. Children and adults alike danced around the large fire that had been set to provide light and warmth for those who wished to stay out deep into the night. Belle and Rumple were sat the fire, sharing a leg of lamb and some sweet wine. They took turns biting into the tender and seasoned meat. It was delicious, and Rumplstiltskin was glad to share another meal with Belle. He would gladly share all his meals with her if it meant she would be by his side.

They finished the leg, and Rumplestiltskin threw the bone into the fire, which caused the fire to crack and pop. Belle finished her small cup and waited for Rumplestiltskin to do the same. She stood, letting he shawl slide to the ground and grabbed his hand. "Let's dance!" She exclaimed as she pulled on his hand to tug him up off the grass.

The music changed as he stood and Belle smiled brightly. "I love this dance," she informed him. "Do you know it?"

He did, though he informed her that he may not be very good. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled his hand again, half dragging him into the dancing line. He kept an eye on the men beside him in an effort to remember the steps, and before long he was bouncing and skipping and twirling Belle around the fire, laughing as he went. The steps were simple enough and though he hadn't participated in the dancing in a long time, he fell easily into it, grasping Belle's hands at the proper moment and spinning her about. She laughed gaily throughout the entire set, and her joy was contagious. Rumplestiltskin laughed as well, and when the music stopped abruptly, they crashed into each other, laughing as she wound her arm around his waist to keep her upright.

"How fun!" She said, her eyes sparkling as brightly as the stars above them.

He was hot, sweating, and out of breath, but he couldn't agree more.

The music changed again, but this dance seemed to hold little interest to Belle. With a tilt of her head, she motioned for him to follow her away from the crowd. He took a step then paused and turned back to retrieve her shawl, then raced to catch up with her. She wrapped her arm around his and led them away from the crowd and toward the woods. With each step, the boisterous sounds from the people celebrating faded, and he realized quickly that he and Belle were very much alone.

They walked until they came to a clearing, and Belle released his arm to move ahead. She stood and tilted her head up and Rumplestiltskin's gaze followed hers toward the sky. It was much darker away from the torches and large fires from the festival, and the stars glittered and twinkled happily from their seats in the sky. Rumplestiltksin moved to stand next to her, and together they watched the stars for a long, silent moment.

Without looking at him, Belle spoke, "I love to come look at the stars. They're so beautiful."

"You're much lovelier."

He hadn't meant to say the words and he froze as his eyes widened at his mistake. He cursed himself but tried to remain placid, hoping she would forgive him for speaking so boldly.

"Do you really think so?"

He glanced down then, and was startled to see her looking at him with such innocent hope that he could not stop himself from assuring her. He turned to face her and whispered, "You are by far the most beautiful woman I've ever met. The stars are nothing compared to you."

Even in the darkness, he could see her blush. Emboldened, whether from the rush of dancing with her, the wine, or the cover of night, he felt himself ready to tell her how much he cared about her and the consequences be damned.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke first. "I-", she faltered. "Thank you, Rumplestiltskin," she whispered softly. "I'm glad you think I'm beautiful."

"You aren't just beautiful," he said hurriedly, wanting to separate himself from the fools that would only ever appreciate that part of her. "You are kind and smart. You're patient and hard-working and sweet. You're…wonderful." She smiled up at him as if she'd never heard the words before. If he had his way, he would tell her everyday how perfect she was.

"I'm pleased you agreed to spend the evening with me," she said after some time, her voice soft and almost shy.

"I'm pleased you actually seemed to enjoy an evening in my company."

"Of course I enjoyed your company," she declared. "I'd like to spend more time in your company, if you'd be all right with that."

"How could I be anything _but_ all right?" He asked her earnestly. "You could have your choice of men to spend your time with, yet you ask me. I don't understand it, but I certainly won't complain."

"It's because I like you, you silly man," she stated plainly, as if it were a fact he should have long ago been aware of.

He stared at her, eyes growing wide. "You do?" He asked, unable to believe he'd heard her correctly. Even if she replied that she thought of him as a kind friend, it would be enough. Some small part of her heart belonged to him now; and even if it was all she ever gave him, it was more than he'd ever had before and he would cherish it deeply.

Instead of responding as he expected, Belle leaned up, resting her hands on his forearms and pressed her lips against his cheek in a gentle kiss. After resting there a moment she moved away, still blushing and smiling shyly.

He stood still, staring at her in surprise. Belle had kissed him. _Belle had kissed him!_ He touched his hand to the place where his cheek burned with the memory of her touch and a small breath escape him at the thought of what just happened. He felt his lips twitch, the beginning of a smile forming and he could see Belle's relief that she hadn't offended him with her forwardness.

As if any man in his right mind would be offended that such a beautiful creature had chosen to kiss him.

He couldn't speak, unable to form a thought coherent enough to turn into words. She continued to watch him and after a moment she giggled, clearly pleased at the affect she had on him.

"I do," she said after some time, "Like you. Very much."

"Oh, Belle," he breathed, unable to contain the fervor that was growing inside him. He had worried so much about whether or not he would be able to gain her affection that he had not thought about what to do once he had it. It had seemed like such an impossible dream; things like this didn't happen to him. That gave him pause.

"You know my reputation," he said suddenly, full of shame. "You must know what the village thinks of me. I'm the son of a coward; an outcast. I have nothing of value."

"I know your reputation," she agreed. "But I also know that Ebert hits his wife when he takes to the bottle and I know that Magdalene, the baker's wife is sleeping with men who are not her husband. I know that my reputation is that I'm a strange, bookish girl who doesn't know her place." She reached out and rested her hand against his arm again.

"We all have reputations, Rumplestiltksin. Some are known by the whole village; some aren't. But I also know that Ebert, vile man that he is, sells fine goods and that Magdalene is just as good a baker as her husband. You think I'm beautiful and I think you're a good man who is more valuable than he realizes. We're all more than our reputations."

He took in her words, pushing aside his surprise that the baker's wife was unfaithful and his lack of surprise that Ebert was abusive. He had heard that Belle was strange – most women spent days cooking and cleaning and birthing sons. They didn't read books and help in legal matters. But even with those whispers in the air, many still agreed that Belle was quite lovely.

And that made her speech true. They were more than what the villagers said about them. She wasn't _just_ bookish and lovely. He wasn't just an outcast. If she wanted to associate with him, he'd be an absolute fool to stop her.

But even still, there was one person whose opinion _did_ matter.

"What of your father?" Rumplestiltskin asked. "Would he not disapprove?"

She shook her head. "Even if he does, it's my choice."

He smiled at her and she returned the gesture. After a moment she asked, "Perhaps I could teach you to read? It would benefit you tremendously. And it would be an excuse to spend time together." She paused and blushed. "If you want to learn, that is. I really am forward, aren't I?"

He laughed. "So long as you're there, I'll let you teach me to braid flowers into your hair, if you like."

She giggled and took a step closer to him. Tilting her head up, she whispered, "May I?" And he knew what she wanted.

He shook his head. "No. I think I would like to return the favor instead. If you'll permit me, that is," he added on quickly.

Her eyes sparkled and she tilted her head to the side, offering her cheek to him. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against her skin, biting back a sigh as his dry lips touched the sweet softness of her cheek. She truly was perfection.

She shivered, and though he was unsure if it was from his kiss or the coolness of the night air, he took the shawl he still had draped over his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She pulled it closer and smiled up at him in thanks.

"We should probably return," he said after a moment.

He had no desire to leave, but he knew it was for the best. "Yes," she said. "We probably should." She waited a moment then asked, "Could I come tomorrow to begin teaching you?" She asked quietly and he found himself nodding.

"Absolutely," he said. "I would like nothing more than to see you. And to learn too. Of course."

She smiled affectionately and wrapped her arm around his. Leaning her head on his shoulder, they waked back to the village together as Belle told him all about how wonderful it was to be able to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kudos! Each notice I get always brings a smile to my face.
> 
> Chapter 4 will be up November 8!
> 
> _Please see disclaimer in both chapters 1 and 2._


	4. C is for Courting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had only truly been in his life a little over a week, and already he longed for the day that she would walk through his door and never have to leave again.

Chapter 4: C is for Courting 

 

"Well done! Now let's try again."

Over the past week, Belle had come over every day with parchment, quill, ink, and a determination to teach Rumplestiltskin his letters. Prior to Belle's teaching, he had only learned enough to make scribbles that resembled the letters that spelled his name. He didn't know how to read the contracts he sometimes had to sign, and he knew that he could unknowingly sign away his every possession if someone decided to trick him. But Belle was here and he was grateful for her. He knew that Belle loved reading. She had mentioned that her home was filled with books, many of them coming from her father when he went away on business. It was tradition that he bring her a new book when he returned. She spoke about them with fondness and even brought over one or two to show Rumplestiltksin. She held them delicately, caressing the covers as if they were her children and she was soothing their troubles. It was fascinating to watch her eyes sparkle as she talked about the stories held within the rough parchment inside, and it made Rumplestiltskin eager to discover the stories for himself.

As much as he longed to read the stories that Belle spoke so fondly of, first he had to learn his letters, and then how to write. He couldn't wait to be able to write, and he had already begun dreaming of the letters he would write and give to Belle; but he knew that would come later. Instead, Belle began by teaching him the letters and what sounds they made and what words began with those letters. He felt absolutely stupid when he couldn't remember how a word was pronounced or what sound a letter made, but Belle was steadfast and patient, and after a week he could recognize over half the letters she showed him.

She held up the small piece of parchment that she had written the letter _A_ on and asked him if he could tell her what letter it was and the sounds it made. He answered her correctly and was rewarded with a cry of delight as she clapped her hands. "Wonderful! All right, the next letter." He made his way down the list, smiling proudly when he was right. Belle seemed pleased with him and that was the perfect determination to learn as much as he could.

"You're doing so well," she encouraged him, "You're learning quickly."

If this was quick, he was amazed. He still felt stupid, but her praises were often enough to push away his insecurity. Before her words at the festival, he'd been convinced she would never truly want to be with someone who did not know how to read or write. But now that he knew she was fond of him, he was determined to improve himself so that he would be more suited for Belle. She deserved the best, and he would ensure that he became his absolute best if it meant she would choose him.

She held up the letter _A_ again and said, "All right. Now I want you to tell me a word that starts with each letter. I'll help when needed."

He stared at the A for a moment then slowly said, "A-apple?"

She smiled and held up the _B_. "Belle," he said with a small grin. She giggled and swatted at him, then held up the letter _C_. "Kind," he responded and frowned when she shook her head.

"Some letters have similar sounds," she said. "Kind starts with a K. But, that was a good try. Can you give me another word?"

He sat and focused for a long time, trying to think of a proper word. After a moment he whispered, "Coward."

She dropped her hand and gave him a hard glare. "While that is correct," she said firmly, "I don't want you using that word again. Try something else."

He stared at the letter for some time, trying to think of a word. He lowered his gaze to the table, then remembered the day she had first come to his home.

"Cake," he said, glancing up with hope.

She offered him a smile, but it did not quite reach her eyes. "Very good. Next one."

They worked for a few hours, and finally Belle's cheer came back as he continued to progress. She told him countless times how proud she was of him and at the end of the lesson she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek as a reward for his hard work. They both blushed; the gesture was simple yet so resonating. It would not do for someone to see her bestowing her kisses on his cheek. They were not wed. They were not even courting, and if they were caught exchanging even the chastest of kisses, Belle's reputation could be put in jeopardy. He knew she did not care for such things, but he cared about her, and the last thing he wanted was to inadvertently cause her harm.

A plan formed in his mind then, and before she left he asked if she would mind leaving the letters with him so that he could practice some more. She happily left them, as well as a quill, ink, and a spare piece of parchment. He bid her a good evening then sat down at his small table and began to copy her letters in a scratchy, messy handwriting, muttering the words those letters started with as he went.

He wanted to be perfect for her tomorrow, so he stayed up half the night repeating the letters aloud and remembering the right words that the letters were associated with. By the time he went to bed he had the entire list memorized and could recite at least two different words each for each letter. He had never felt so proud of himself before and he hoped that Belle would be just as proud of him.

~000~

The next day he woke early to ensure all his chores were complete before Belle arrived. He worked hard and fast, covering the sheep's wool with lanolin and preparing it to be spun. The batch he had done the day before was ready and he took to his wheel to spin, completing an entire spool's worth before Belle arrived.

He let her in and offered her a drink, which she gladly accepted. He poured a small amount of ale into a clay up and she took a grateful sip before asking how his private studying went.

"I feel good," he said at last. "I think you'll be pleased."

They made it through the list once and Belle laughed in delight when he answered every letter correctly. She stood and wrapped her arms around him in a hug and he sighed pleasantly as he held his hands politely at her hips, not daring to press closer to her the way he desired.

She returned to her seat and asked if he would like to do it one more time before they moved on. She claimed he was ready for more challenging work, and he agreed. She shuffled through the cards and held up the _A_.

"Arm," he said, pointing to his own.

She smiled and held up the _B_. "Beautiful," he said, offering her a small smile.

She blushed but said nothing, instead holding up the C card.

"Courting," he said resolutely.

She paused and blinked. "What?"

He cleared his throat and grabbed the legs of his chair, pulling it closer to her. "Courting," he repeated. " _C_ is for courting, which I would very much like for us to do."

Her mouth hung open in a half smile as she regarded him curiously for a moment. After a moment, her lips turned up into a true grin and she let out a breathy laugh. "You want to court me?" She asked in slight surprise.

He nodded and waited for her answer. He bit at his lip, wondering why she hadn't said anything. Surely he hadn't misread her? He'd been certain that she would say yes; she offered him her affections freely, but now he began to wonder, his fear that she would reject him growing by the moment. She began shuffling through the letters, and Rumplestiltskin watched her with curiosity. Was she ignoring his question? She held up the _Y_ and said, "What word starts with this letter?"

Other than _yellow_ and _yarn_ , he had no idea what to say. He didn't understand. He'd thought of a clever way to ask her to court him, and she was still doing their lesson. Maybe she was skipping though the letters so they would finish and she could make her excuses and leave. He glanced down in defeat and gave her a small shrug, which seemed to amuse her.

She reached over with the hand that wasn't holding the letter and touched his. "Yes," she whispered.

He blinked up at her in surprise. "What?"

Smiling gently, she repeated, " _Y_ is for yes. As in, yes, Rumplestiltskin, I'd like you to court me."

Had he not been so stunned, he would have leapt from his seat with a wild shout, whooping and cheering and dancing around his small shack in radiant joy. But his surprise kept him in check and he remained where he was, simply staring at her in complete disbelief. He could hardly believe it had worked, and he had no idea what to do now she had said yes. Completely at a lost, he gave up and laughed, the sound soft and breathy as he allowed her answer to sink in. "You will?" He asked, his tone tight from the sheer excitement and fire that burned through him.

She nodded, her smile wide and her eyes bright, "I will."

He reached out his hand to her, then stopped himself. Was he allowed to hug her? She had bestowed affection upon him, but should he act upon his desires and hold her to him? She sensed his hesitation and stood, pulling him up to his feet and wrapped her arms around his waist. His arms looped loosely around her shoulders and he rested his cheek against the top of her head, the pleasant feeling of someone so close a true delight. The warmth she radiated surrounded him and he'd never felt so good before.

After a moment, a thought occurred to him and he pulled back slightly, staring at her with a frown. "I should speak with your father."

She hummed in agreement. "Yes," she said, "It is the…proper…thing to do." She laughed, "But it probably would be for the best. He is a bit protective of me."

Rumplestiltskin swallowed thickly and nodded. "Perhaps I could visit him tomorrow?"

"So eager to court me?" She teased, and Rumplestiltskin grabbed her hand instinctively.

"Very."

That sobered Belle, and she squeezed his hand in reassurance. "Come to dinner tomorrow," she offered, "You can speak to him then."

He agreed and she smiled, leaning close to him. "I was hoping you would ask me the night of the festival," she admitted. "But better late than never I suppose." She laughed and winked at him, causing him to flush and stutter an apology for not asking her sooner.

"It's all right," she told him, "I'm just glad you asked me. I know what everyone says about you, but it always made me wonder why they never took the time to get to know you. I should have spoken to you sooner and I don't know what held me back. But then, we bumped into each other that day, and I took it as a sign from the gods that this was my chance to get to know you. I wasn't going to waste my chance."

"I always wanted to speak to you. But I never thought you would be interested in a poor spinner like me."

"Well, I am," she insisted gently. "Very much so."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad."

She giggled and they smiled at each other, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. Things were moving quickly, he realized; but he would have it no other way. She had only truly been in his life a little over a week, and already he longed for the day that she would walk through his door and never have to leave again. She was old enough to marry, and he began to calculate in his mind how long it would be proper to wait after gaining permission from her father to court her before returning to ask for her hand.

He'd often thought himself a fool for hoping that he would find someone who saw him as more than a coward's son, but he had found it in Belle. He could already imagine their future together, and it filled him with a joy that he'd never known before. He hadn't even gotten her father's permission yet, but he was still the happiest of men. Just knowing how she felt was more than enough to satisfy him for a lifetime. He paused at that thought. No, he realized. It would not be enough. He was tired of _enough_. He was tired of settling for whatever he could get and hoping that one day his luck would turn. Belle was the turn of his luck, and he was going to take full advantage of the confidence her affection produced in him. He felt like a man, not simply flesh and bone; but he felt like a man should feel: strong, proud, and eager to provide for those he cared for. He was coming into his own, and all it had taken was the simple validation from the petite young woman standing before him.

"I'll see you tomorrow for dinner?" She asked, waiting for him to confirm once more that he would be there.

"Assuming your father allows me into his home," Rumple said softly. Belle placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled encouragingly at him. "He will."

"You seem certain."

"I'm always certain."

She smiled mischievously and he realized she was teasing. He loved that about her; she could be so light and carefree and her joy was infectious. She moved away and pulled on the small cloak she'd removed earlier and blew him a kiss, her eyes bright with amusement at his surprise. "Until then, Rumplestiltskin," she whispered before slipping out the door and into the fading light of day.

"Until then," he whispered, his voice as light as the air he spoke to.

He cleaned up the mess they'd made during their lesson, putting her parchment, letters, and quill in his travel basket so that he would remember to take them to her tomorrow. He stripped his clothing, deciding that for the second time in two weeks he would bathe. It was, as it was with many things, not a luxury he often enjoyed, but he was trying to make an impression and the last thing he wanted was to show up at Belle's home reeking of lanolin and sheep and general filth.

He crawled into his bed and fell asleep quickly, not allowing himself to worry over what Belle's father would say when asked to court her properly. The worst her father could say was no, he reasoned, and he had a feeling Belle wouldn't take that for an answer.

~000~

Despite his ease the night before, the next day he did worry. He now felt the fear that he was used to feeling come over him with full force. He fretted about what he would say, how he would say it, and what he would do if her father _did_ say 'no'. He could not bear to think of what he would do if he was denied the one thing he truly wanted – the only thing he truly wanted in this world – and the worry had him so nervous and shaking that he found he was completely useless at his spinning needed steady hands for his trade and his nerves were so worked up that he could barely lift his hand without it trembling like a leaf in a storm.

Resigning himself to a day of being unproductive, he trudged down to the creek and collected a bucket of water to use for bathing. He returned home and poured some of the water into the small kettle over the fire to heat it, then dipped a rag in the warm water. He washed off quickly, pouring water over his head, shivering at the cooling water. He shook his head like a wet dog, droplets of water flying everywhere and he dropped his old shirt into the water to let it soak. He pulled on his clean shirt, grateful that he'd quickly gotten into the habit of washing them more often now that he had a lovely young woman visiting frequently

He sat at the table and broke off a small piece of bread and nibbled at it, finding that his stomach was too full of nerves to properly handle any food. He continued to nibble anyway, knowing he needed to at least have something small to keep him from feeling weak with hunger. As he ate, he thought about what he would say, what he would do. He was desperate for things to go well. He'd been offered a sliver of hope; he'd tasted the sweetness that life could offer and now he craved for more. He craved Belle. He lowered his head to rest on the table and asked the gods to grant him favor for once in his life.

~000~

Rumple stood at the front door to Belle's home and took a trembling breath. He knocked softly, not wanting to do anything at all to annoy Belle's father. He hoped that Belle would answer the door so he would not have to immediately face her father, and to his quiet relief she did. Belle smiled at him and ushered him inside. She took his cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall. Rumple glanced around the home, taking in the small but spacious room, warm and bright with a fire that roared proudly in the hearth. Belle ushered him over to the table in the middle of the room where three plates and cups were laid out. "Papa is outside, roasting a chicken," she explained. "He should return with it any moment."

The thought of a roasted chicken leg was enough to make Rumplestiltskin's stomach begin to growl, and he clamped his hand over it as if the gesture would make the sound stop. He sighed heavily and prayed Belle had not heard. "Relax," she said, noticing his unease, "Papa only does this on very special occasions."

Wondering what could make his visit so special, Rumplestiltskin sat idly for a moment, unsure of what to do. Did he offer to go help her father? Did he want to be alone with the man before he had determined the type of mood he was in? He barely knew Maurice. The man was a scribe as well as a notary and helped people in all manner of ways in the village. His daughter had clearly taken after him, helping teach others how to read and write.

The door on the other end of the room opened and Maurice walked in, carrying a pan with a roasted chicken. Rumple took in the man as he approached. He was large and burly, but not overly. His hair was short and combed back, greying at the temple. His face was lined with the beginnings of wrinkles but he did not look as if he were older than his late forties. His face was thick and his eyes were friendly and he offered Rumplestiltskin a stiff smile as he placed the pan in the center of the table.

Rumplestiltskin met his eyes and smiled back. The suspicion came over him that Maurice knew why he was here. Standing up quickly, he held his hand out to the other man. "Good evening, sir," he said keeping his voice steady, despite his nervousness. "I'm Rumplestiltskin."

Maurice took his hand and shook it briefly before letting go to grab a knife to begin carving the chicken. "And you have eyes for my daughter," he said plainly, causing Belle to drop something behind them and mutter embarrassedly, "Papa!"

Rumplestiltskin gulped and nodded, unsure if he was meant to confirm or deny Maurice's accusation. He feared suddenly that if he admitted to it, her father would use the knife to carve him instead of the chicken for even thinking he was good enough for Belle.

Maurice chuckled at his daughter's embarrassment. "I apologize, my girl."

She brought over the bread and some dried fruit and Maurice dropped a large chunk of chicken onto Rumplestiltskin's plate. "Eat up, Spinner," he said. "Belle was right when she said you were as thin as a bean pole."

Rumplestiltskin's face grew hot, and he did as he was told.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, much to Rumplestiltskin's surprise. Other than Maurice's earlier joke about him having eyes for his daughter, not another word about the subject was spoken, for which he was grateful. He didn't know if he could handle Maurice's rejection in front of Belle, but he was also growing increasingly nervous of the thought of asking to speak to him alone. He was not a fearsome fellow, but he was the father of the woman Rumplestiltskin sought to court, and that was enough to make the portly scribe more terrifying than any scary story he'd heard as a child.

They finished their meal and Rumplestiltskin complimented Maurice on the cooking. Maurice merely smirked and turned to Belle, instructing her to take a bucket down to the creek to collect some more water for them to wash the dishes later. Bowing her head, she did as she asked, retrieving her cloak and the wooden pail before offering both men a small smile and exiting.

Rumplestiltskin bit at his lip. He was alone with her father and all the words he'd rehearsed in his head earlier suddenly left him. Any courage he'd built up throughout the evening seemed to vanish with Belle, and he sat there frozen and foolish, trying to figure out what he was going to do now that he had the chance.

Oh, how he hated being a coward. He did not deserve Belle.

Grunting and picking up the empty plates, Maurice spoke first. "Belle tells me you asked her to court you." It was a simple statement and his voice betrayed nothing, but Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but feel terror well up inside him. Choking it back down, he nodded and replied, "Y-yes, sir."

"And now do you have something to ask me?"

Again, Rumplestiltskin nodded. "I-I do," he stuttered. He paused, trying to keep his voice even and spoke, "I'd like to have your permission to court Belle, please. Sir."

Maurice turned to face him and where Rumplestiltskin had expected to see a harsh stare, there was only a humored smirk. "So far, you're the fourth young man to come asking for my daughter's hand."

Rumplestiltskin did not like the sound of that.

Maurice continued, "But you are the only one that she has ever declared interest in."

Rumplestiltskin's eyebrow's raised in surprise.

"It is my belief that no one in this village is good enough for my daughter. But I've always promised myself that if Belle found a man she cared for, I would not stop her. So far, she's come to me and asked me to tell the young men no. Yesterday, however," he said as he grabbed two mugs and a jar of ale, "She came to me and asked me to say yes. You can imagine my surprise that my daughter had finally become interested in someone."

Maurice poured the ale into the mugs and approached Rumplestilskin. He placed one down in front of him, then took a drink from his own. Swallowing, Maurice continued, "I've never seen my girl so taken with someone; she's always been more fond of her books and studying the trade with me. But I suppose it had to happen at some point."

He cleared his throat and moved to face Rumplestiltskin more directly. "So, what I want to know is this: If I do as my daughter wishes and allow you to court her, what will she get out of it? What can you offer her?"

Rumplestiltskin sat still and silent for a long moment, mulling over the question. Finally he met Maurice's gaze and answered truthfully, "I don't have much, sir. But I do care for your daughter. I cannot offer her riches or books, but I can offer her a home, small though it may be. I can offer her my heart. I can offer her respect and love and kindness. That's all I have, really."

"Leave the books to me," Maurice said simply, "As long as you treat her well, care for her and love her, then I'll gladly see her court you." He smiled and chuckled softly to himself. "Though even if I said no, she would still find ways to see you. She's a stubborn one when she wants to be."

"So-so you…approve, then?" Rumplestiltskin asked hesitantly, wanting to ensure he understood exactly what her father was saying.

"My daughter knows what she wants," he explained. "And I'm an old fool who will see to it that she has whatever she wants; which other than books, is very little. I know who you are, Rumplestiltskin. I know what is said about you. But I know my daughter and she can see the best in people. She claims you are a hard worker and I believe it. I respect that in a man, no matter what else is known about him. You're too poor to afford to drink, so I know that my girl is safe from that kind of life. She's never had much, and she still won't with you, but if she's happy then I see no reason to say no."

He leaned forward then, his face alarmingly close to Rumplestiltskin's. "But be warned, Spinner. Hurt her, and you'll rue the day you stepped into my home."

"I would never hurt her, sir," he swore.

Maurice leaned back and rested his hands on his large belly. "Good."

At that, the door opened and Belle waltzed in, humming as she carried a bucket of water. Rumplestiltskin wondered if she'd been listening at the door or if she simply had impeccable timing. He would have to ask her later. "So what did the two of you speak of while I was gone?" She asked cheerfully, feigning ignorance as she transported some of the water from the bucket to a kettle, which she then placed over the fire.

"I was just giving Rumplestiltskin my blessing to court you."

Rumplestiltskin never saw someone move so quickly. She was at her father's side in an instant, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, thank you, Papa!" She whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. He took her hands and held them steadily in his. "You must obey the proper etiquette in this," he gently chided. "I know your opinions on such things, but whether you agree or not, it is the way things are, and I will not have your reputation tarnished by you spending your days locked in his home teaching him to read. You will meet here, or somewhere publicly, and you will do nothing that is deemed improper. Is that understood?"

Belle blushed furiously and Rumplestiltskin wondered if it were from the topic at hand, or that she was being scolded by her father in front of him. He felt embarrassed by the former, wanting to keep any and all thoughts of what was improper from his head. He knew what was not allowed for couples who were not wed. But he was also well aware that it was becoming more and more common for couples to disregard such rules, often finding a thrill in sneaking off for a moment alone, the act itself almost as thrilling as the risk of being caught. But he was a bit older than Belle and had been brought up in the ways that dictated utmost respect, propriety, and chasteness until the couple entered the marriage bed. And if that was all Maurice expected of him in courting his daughter, he would be damned if he did anything to the contrary.

Belle acquiesced to her father's comments and asked if they could have their lessons here instead. "You'll be here, Papa," she reasoned, "And Rumplestiltskin is doing very well. I don't wish to postpone our lessons simply because people might talk about us."

Maurice nodded. "That is up to Rumplestiltskin. He no doubt has his own work to do and cannot simply drop everything because you want to play school."

"I can spare a few evenings," Rumplestiltskin spoke up softly, shrinking down in his seat ever so slightly when both father and daughter turned to look at him. "Perhaps two nights a week?"

"That would be acceptable," Maurice agreed before pushing his chair back and standing. "Now, I have some documents to go over before I retire. Belle, I expect you to see him off at a decent hour and then go to bed. Am I understood?"

She nodded obediently. "Yes, Papa."

"Good," he picked up a candle from the shelf above their small fire place and lit it before placing it in a holder. "Good evening to you both," he said before he moved out of the room and into what Rumplestiltskin could only assume was his bedroom. The makeshift door that divided the rooms snapped shut, leaving them alone in the soft light of the fire.

Belle turned and beamed at him. "We're courting," she said gently as she came to stand beside him.

He rose and turned to face her, a genuine smile spreading his lips wide. "We're courting," he repeated dazedly as he reached down to take her hand. He lifted it and pressed her knuckles to his lips in a hesitant kiss, amazed at how much had changed since his birthday. He'd awoke that morning thinking his life would never get any better.

Now he realized not only _could_ get better; it _had_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words, kudos, and bookmarks. It means so much to me!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's my favorite so far. 
> 
> Chapter 5 will be up November 15! 
> 
> See Notes at the end of chapter 1 & 2 for the disclaimer.


	5. Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t one to stand up to others; he was content to let them say what they willed and move on. Showing that their words had no effect on him was far easier than confronting people and proving that they did.

Chapter 5: Words

Rumplestiltskin had never been happier. His days were still filled with work and chores, traversing the several miles to purchase wool from Hagan which he then prepared, spun, wound, and sold to Ebert, who continued to berate him for his existence. He would tidy his home, doing his best to keep the shabby place as immaculate as the spinsters who raised him had kept it. He took pride in his home – he always had – but now he awoke with a deeper appreciation and love for all he had. Belle seemed to have that effect on him.

He spent more evenings with Belle now. Sometimes she would visit him, which always left him sputtering nonsense and insisting that they quickly make their way to some public place so that her virtue was not questioned. She would simply laugh, take his arm, and drag him into the town square where they would walk slowly and talk about whatever came to mind. They never noticed the people who stared at them. Their eyes were only for each other and they were deaf to the whispers that fluttered around them as they passed by.

On nights when she did not surprise him in his home, he was at hers, learning to read and write as Belle laughed and cheered him on. He was her most prized student, she declared; and he could only blush and strive to write the next word with a sturdier hand. He had always been a smart man, though he'd never been given much opportunity to develop or learn anything beyond the means to survive. He was learning to read and write for pleasure, and it was indeed a pleasure to make sense of the words upon a page. There was also pleasure in how Belle rewarded him for his success. She would rub his arm or shoulders, and sometimes she could press a quick kiss upon his cheek in her excitement when he accomplished something difficult. He still became flustered if she showed him affection, though he was sure that was partly due to her father being a few feet away from them.

Maurice noticed, too. He trusted his daughter, and he knew the spinner was cowardly enough not to try anything that would risk Belle's reputation; but his fatherly instincts led him to sit on the small chair by the fireplace, pretending to read while he ensured his daughter remained safe. He would watch with pride as Belle instructed Rumplestiltskin with a patience he would never have had with anyone. She hovered over the spinner, reading off words and making Rumplestiltskin write them down. He admired his daughter's love of knowledge and was proud of the initiative she took upon herself to educate others. She had been fortunate, to grow up with a father who had gained much privilege in his service to the kingdom. He had retired to raise his daughter after her mother died, and he'd brought his strict discipline, his books, and his unconditional love with him. He was pleased that he had instilled he latter two into his only child. Knowledge and love were precious things, and he'd hoped one day he would raise up a young woman who would willingly share them with others. Maurcie knew, watching his daughter with the man who had gained her affections, that he had succeeded.

But he knew that his daughter was viewed upon as strange. Women were not valued for more than their ability to bear children, and Belle was not the type of woman to settle for a life of being nothing more than a man's brood mare. He knew his daughter was considered the beauty of the village, but it was the only trait for which she was revered. Most men were intimidated by her cleverness, though that did not deter some brave souls from seeking him out in the effort of claiming Belle's hand. As he had told Rumplestiltskin, Belle was always aware of who intended to seek her hand, and she'd always made it clear to her father that she would not have anyone who did not value her for all she was. Maurice had swelled with pride when his daughter claimed she would only marry for love. Many in the village could not afford that luxury. If love came from a marriage, it was a rare blessing. Maurice had been lucky. He'd married a young girl who was practically thrown at him in an effort to save the family farm, and she'd been just thirteen. They'd quickly grown to love each other and he'd truly mourned her when she passed. He knew from his own experience that love could grow out of even the most unlikely of places, and he knew love did not touch two people the same way. And with that he vowed to allow his daughter the freedom to choose her own husband, no matter what it cost. If she never chose, he would not begrudge her that choice. It seemed though, as he watched Belle sit down next to the spinner and take his free hand in hers, the two of them scooting closer so that their knees practically touched, that she had finally found someone worth choosing.

"I think you've got it," he heard her say as she studied the parchment he had written on. "By the gods, I think you truly do have it!"

"Belle," Maurice's dry voice called out at her exclamation.

She giggled and lowered her voice to whisper to Rumplestiltskin, "I think your efforts deserve a reward."

He felt his cheeks flush. "What sort of reward?" He asked hopefully, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"Say good night to my father and you'll find out."

Rumplestiltskin stood and stretched his back slightly before walking over to shake Maurice's hand, as he did every time he left. "Thank you, sir," he said politely. Though he did not stand, Maurice reached out and took Rumplestiltskin's hand in his.

"Good night, Rumplestiltskin," Maurice said with a slight nod before releasing his hand and picking up his book to continue reading.

"I'll see him out, Papa," Belle declared as she grabbed her shawl, not giving her father time to stop her.

They walked outside, the cool air sending shivers over them. Belle moved to stand closer to Rumplestiltskin and he looked down at her in surprise. Hope filled him and he waited anxiously, hoping she would kiss him. "I'm very proud of you," she said sweetly, reaching out to take his hand and squeezing it gently. "We'll start reading a book next time instead of just pointing out different words."

"I look forward to it."

He did, truly, but he looked forward to spending time in Belle's presence far more. He was grateful for all that he'd learned. He found himself sounding out words on a regular basis, amazed that there were so many things he could now understand. He felt like there was nothing he couldn't do now that he had the power of words.

"So do I," she agreed, her voice but a soft whisper. They stood for a moment, and Rumplestiltskin began to wonder if she'd only been joking about a reward. She put his fears to rest when she spoke again, "Would you like your prize now?" She asked coyly.

"Very much," he said, his voice low and growing breathy.

She smiled and leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. He did not move as she backed away, glancing at him curiously. She found, to her amusement, that he appeared frozen. His eyes were still closed and his lips still slightly puckered, as if her touch had turned him to stone. He blinked after a moment, then opened his eyes to stare at her, his eyebrows raising far up on his forehead.

"I-Th-Wh-Thank….you," he cursed himself for stuttering like a fool, but she'd left him utterly dumbfounded. As wonderful as her hesitant kiss to his cheek had been, this was by far the most incredible thing she'd given him.

She laughed, then slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

"Thank you," he said again, wishing he could think of something else to say.

"You earned it," she declared, then let go of his hand and stepped toward the door. "Good night, Rumplestiltskin."

"Good night, my dear."

He caught the sight of her blush just as the door shut. Smiling to himself, he turned and walked on air the entire way home.

~0~

The market was more crowded than normal. Rumplestiltskin pushed his way through to the end of the row where Ebert stood chewing on a piece of salted ham and hard bread and Rumple watched in disgust as crumbs fell into his beard. A few villagers were standing at his stall perusing the various materials he had for sale and Rumplestiltskin moved over to the side, out of the way. He placed his basket on the counter and began pulling out the spindles of wool.

"What do you think yer doin'?" Ebert growled.

"G-getting out the wool," Rumplestiltskin said shakily, wondering what had come over the man. He was normally a hateful pig, but his mood seemed worse today, and Rumplestiltksin could only fathom why.

"Well be quick about it," he snarled. "I got payin' customers here an' I don't want you scarin' em off with yer ugly mutt."

Resisting the urge to point out that the two ladies at his booth seemed more disgusted with the vendor than himself, Rumplestiltskin handed the several spools of wool over to Ebert who felt them and eyed them carefully, even going so far as to sniff them. Grunting in annoyance, Ebert grabbed a silver coin and tossed it carelessly at Rumplestiltskin who fumbled to catch it. He shoved the piece into his pocket and nodded.

"Thank you," he said tersely, deciding he was not going to comment about how grateful he was that he'd received so much for his goods. Ebert grunted in response, after taking a bite of bread that was far too big to properly fit in his mouth, then he turned and began telling the women about the material he wished to sell them, oblivious of the crumbs he spewed as he spoke. Shuddering in disgust, Rumplestiltskin turned and made his way through the market, filling his basket with some simple foods that would last for some time. He purchased more bread and cheese, dried fruit, a small jug of sweet wine, and a cake from the bakery. He still had plenty of shillings left over after he finished, and he looked forward to returning home and dropping them into the little clay cup where he was saving for a now promising future.

He was going to meet Belle again tonight, and his thoughts wandered back to the night before. It had only been a few hours since she'd bestowed upon him that wonderful kiss and he could hardly wait to please her again with his reading. Maybe she would reward him again! Perhaps her father would retire to his room if he stayed late enough and they would be free to share a kiss in the light of the fire, where Rumplestiltksin would be able to properly see her lovely flushed cheeks as she moved away from him. Rumplestiltskin rushed home, excited to get the day's work over with so that he might move on to more enjoyable ventures.

~000~

That evening Belle greeted him at her door, but instead of inviting him inside, she grabbed her cloak off the hook and slipped outside, calling out to her father that they would be back soon. She slipped her arm in his and he gave her a questioning look. "What are we doing?" He asked hesitantly, glancing back in fear that her father might rush outside and demand to know what was going on.

"I thought we could take a walk," she explained as she pulled him along. "It's a lovely evening. We can read when we get back."

He did not argue with her; there would be no point. Instead he rested his other hand on hers and allowed her to guide him toward the square. They spoke softly to one another, Belle laughing at his quips and Rumplestiltskin listening intently as she spoke of a number of things. Soon they were oblivious to everything around them but each other. Rumple listened, transfixed, as Belle began to talk about the book she was currently reading. It was her favorite, she declared, a fictional tale about a princess and monsters and a prince in disguise.

"Sounds interesting," he said. And it did sound interesting. Everything Belle said was interesting and he looked forward to being able to discuss her books with her.

"It's wonderful," Belle said firmly. "I think you'll enjoy it."

"I'm sure if you enjoy it then it's worth reading," he proclaimed, proud of the compliment he'd paid and even prouder of the smile his words produced.

"I'm not sure if it's because I'm teaching you," she laughed, "But you certainly have a way with words!"

_"How can she bare to be in his presence?"_

_"Never mind him; what about her? She's so strange. Thinks she's better than most because she can read."_

Rumplestiltskin stopped, his words dead on his tongue, and Belle glanced at him before looking over to two women who were sitting outside the pub, talking far too loudly. Rumplestiltskin felt anger well up inside him at hearing someone speak ill of his Belle, but he knew it would do nothing to speak up, so he tugged on Belle's arm and said, "Come along, Belle. Let's head back."

"Hey, spinner!" They paused, and Rumple turned his head slightly to see a young man approach him. Belle tensed beside him, and he glanced down at her in concern. "Yeah, I'm talkin' to you!" The lad said again, and Rumple turned completely to face the boy.

"What makes you think you're good enough for the likes of her?" The boy asked, his long, nasty hair falling into his eyes. He was taller than Rumplestiltskin, and terribly thin, but his arms held the hint of muscle from working long days of hard labor.

"Look at you," the boy said, reaching out to push at Rumplestiltskin. "You think you actually deserve to have a woman at your side? You're nothing but the son of a coward. Your own Pa didn't even want you, what makes you think she would-"

"Wilmar," Belle hissed suddenly. "Hold your tongue, you barbarian!"

"Ah, so you _can_ talk," Wilmar said with a sneer. "I thought you didn't know how, considerin' you would never talk to me." He chuckled then glanced back at Rumplestiltskin, "And you. You're so pathetic you need your little whore to stand up for you, eh?"

Belle gasped, and Rumplestiltskin felt his hand ball into a fist. He felt hot, the fury within him from years of insults boiling inside. He could feel his restraint stretching, and it was going to break at any moment. He needed to get out of there before he did something he would end up regretting. He needed to get Belle away. She was what mattered here. He took a step back, ready to turn and walk away, but Wilmar carried on.

"Well, that's the only reason you're with him, ain't it?" Wilmar asked, fixing his gaze upon Belle. His voice was raised to draw as much attention as possible, and a small crowd began to form around them. Wilmar thrived on being the center of attention, and it was clear he enjoyed the strife he was causing. Spurred on by the rush he felt he continued, "You screwed him, and now you're stuck with him. Aren't ya? No one else'd have you anyway, and now you-"

"Shut up."

Wilmar paused and looked cheekily at Rumplestiltskin. "What did you say to me?"

"I-I said," Rumplestiltskin stuttered as he stepped forward to face the lad, "Shut up. You sh-shouldn't speak to a lady like that."

"Pfft, she ain't no lady!" Wilmar laughed.

Rumplestiltskin swallowed. "A-and you're no man."

Wilmar's laughter stopped instantly and he placed a piercing gaze on the spinner. "What did you say?"

Rumplestiltskin trembled but pressed on, determined to defend Belle.. "Wh-what sort of man speaks that way about a woman? You are a r-rude and hateful boy wh-who doesn't deserve someone like Belle."

Rumplestiltskin was going to continue, scared though he was, but before he could speak again, he heard a roar and then felt a fist connect with his face, leaving him reeling. Rumplestiltskin swayed and collapsed to the ground; his head spinning and throbbing. He could hear laughter, and Belle calling out his name, but he could not focus enough to properly sort out what was being said. He grasped at his head, which he could already feel bruising, and groaned as everything became a haze around him of swirling, blurry colors and the sounds fading to distant buzzes in his ears.

He could tell that something else had happened, for the crowd that was roaring had suddenly gone silent. He couldn't open his eyes but he could hear Belle, though her voice was distorted. After a moment he felt himself being lifted from the ground. He did not know what was happening or where he was going; he only knew that everything was growing darker, and if it would make the pain go away, he would gladly embrace its quiet warmth.

~000~

When he came to, he was lying on a bed in a room he did not recognize. He groaned and tried to turn his head, but the pounding and swirling instantly returned and he forced himself to remain still. He shut his eyes for a moment, but a sound from the other end of the room, far louder and painful than it should have been, caused him to blink his eyes open. He was surprised to see Belle approaching him with a small basin and a rag.

"What-" He tried to speak, but the sound of his own voice was far too loud, so he stopped, groaning in pain.

She sat the basin on the small table next to the bed and dipped the rag into the water. Ringing it out, she touched the cloth to this head, which caused him to flinch.

"Shh," she gently whispered as she dabbed at the spot where his head pounded the most.

"That was an incredibly stupid thing you did," she scolded softly, but Rumplestiltskin was so grateful that she wasn't shouting that he would gladly allow her to curse him for his actions, which he barely even remembered.

"What happened?"

"You smarted off to Wilmar so he punched you," she informed him, and the memories came flooding back, causing him to groan again.

"I can't believe I did that," he whispered, slightly in awe of himself. He wasn't one to stand up to others; he was content to let them say what they willed and move on. Showing that their words had no effect on him was far easier than confronting people and proving that they did.

"Well, it was incredibly stupid," she remarked again. He felt her touch his cheek and tilt his head in her direction. He opened his eyes again to look at her and was met with a sweet smile. "But I'm glad you did it."

She leaned down, brushed her lips against his, then pulled back and gently ghosted her lips over his temple. "It was very sweet of you," she said as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "No one has ever done that for me before."

"What, gotten clobbered?" He asked with a groan as he reached up to clasp her hand. She winced, but before Rumple could question her she removed her hand and brushed it against his cheek.

"Stood up for me."

"Belle," he whispered.

"Shh," she shushed him. "Rest. Papa said you can stay here tonight. He was quite proud that you defended my honor. It meant a lot to him."

She finished cleaning the area and brushed her lips against his temple one last time before gathering up the basin and slipping out of the room. He fell asleep almost instantly, as the thudding in his head lulling him into a dreamless slumber.

When he awoke the next morning, the headache had mostly passed, but he could feel the slight dull ache from where his eye was undoubtedly blackened. He reached up to touch his eye, wincing when a surge of pain shot through him. "Shite," he grumbled, then looked up in surprise when he heard Maurice cough.

"Hope you don't use that language in front of Belle," he smirked.

Holding his hand to his eye he replied, "No, sir."

"Good."

Maurice approached him and sat down on the chair Belle occupied the night before. "I sent Belle down to get some water," he explained. "Poor girl didn't sleep a wink all night. Probably came in here to check on you at least a dozen times."

"I'm sorry I made her worry so," Rumplestiltskin apologized as he blinked several times in an effort to clear his vision.

"Oh don't apologize," Maurice said with a wave of his hand. "You did what any man ought to do. You screwed your courage and stood up for my daughter. I find that commendable."

"Thank you," Rumplestiltskin whispered gratefully.

Maurice stood, groaning as he did so. "You stay here as long as you need," he said, "The least I can do is let you heal up."

Maurice stood but Rumple called out to him softly. He turned to look at Rumplestiltskin. "Has he bothered her before?"

Maurice returned to the seat and sat down heavily. "He was the first boy to ask for Belle's hand," Maurice said. "He's a hard worker, but he's vain and rude and disrespectful. Belle never liked him much. He's had eyes for her since they were children. Never understood her love of books, but that never seemed to be a real problem until she asked me to refuse him. Now any chance he gets he tries to upset her. He's just sore that she sees him for who he really is." Maurice shrugged and offered Rumplestiltskin a cryptic smile. "I have a feeling he'll keep his mouth shut for a while now."

Before Rumple had a chance to ask what he meant, Maurice stood again and left the room, leaving Rumplestiltskin alone with his thoughts. He didn't know Wilmar well, but he knew of him. The boy was cocky and enjoyed bringing others down to lift himself up. His band of friends found his antics greatly entertaining. He wished he'd known Belle was having issues with the boy sooner. He could have been more aware and kept her away from him when they were out, but now he knew. He'd confronted the lad over his remarks to Belle and gotten quite the beating for his efforts. He'd done his best to help Belle and would gladly take Wilmar's fist to his other eye if it meant making Belle smile.

Belle returned not long after and fixed him a small plate of bread and cheese. He ate slowly, each movement of his jaw causing his head to throb. Belle stayed by his side and Rumple was grateful for her kindness. She used a wet rag to wipe at the bruise again, taking great care not to cause him pain. When she was done she pulled out the book they'd been speaking of and began to read to him. Her voice was soft and gentle, a caress over his soul that made all the pain from his head dissipate until all he could focus on was her.

He remained there until late afternoon before decided it would be best for him to return home. It was only a blackened eye – he had yet to see how bad it looked – and though Belle was obviously upset by his decision to leave, she said nothing and allowed him to go. She pressed a kiss to his lips when her father wasn't looking and insisted that she walk him home. He took her shoulders in his hands and told her that he didn't want her going out alone, not after what happened the day before but she glared at him and told him she would come by later to check on him, whether he liked it or not. He knew better than to argue with her and so he made her promise to be careful, then with one last kiss he was on his way.

He walked slowly with his head down, partly to hide his face and partly because even the fading sun was too bright. He wondered about what had happened after he blacked out because he could not remember anything but pain. He hadn't asked her and she'd never offered any information while she cared for him. He reflected on Maurice's sly comment and a part of him had the suspicion that something else had happened.

Curiosity got the best of him, as he made his way through the market and toward the pub where he knew the lad frequented. He noticed Wilmar sitting outside, nursing a mug of ale. He hid, not wanting to be seen. He watched as Wilmar sat with slumped shoulders, not saying a word and ignoring his friend's attempts to cheer him up. Finally the lad looked up, brushing hair out of his face as he did so to acknowledge one of the other boys and Rumplestiltskin noticed the large welt that covered his left eye. Rumplestiltskin stared at the spot, swollen and greenish-purple and quite considerable in size. The boy looked quite frazzled, as if he could hardly bear the pain or the fact that someone had clearly been brave enough to return the gesture he'd offered Rumplestiltskin.

_Who would have done this?_ Rumplestiltskin thought to himself as he observed the boy. Everyone that had been crowded around them the night before had been cheering for Wilmar. He'd heard them laugh as he crashed to the ground. But he also remembered silence, before he'd blacked out. That must have been when it happened though try as he might he could not think of anyone there who would have stood up for him, except-

He turned on his heel and rushed toward Belle's house as fast as he could carry himself.

"Belle! Belle!" He shouted even as his head pounded. Almost instantly he saw her rush outside, her face drawn up in concern. She laid eyes on him and hurried to meet him.

"Rumplestiltskin, what-"

She was cut off when he swept the girl into his arms and pressed his lips hard against hers, taking her completely by surprise. He was not one to offer affection so freely and until this point she'd been the one to initiate kisses between them. He pulled away and grabbed her arms, both to keep him steady and to keep her close.

"You wonderful, brilliant woman!" He declared, "Why did you not tell me what you did?"

Belle shrugged, flexing her bruised hand. "I was taking care of you. It wasn't important."

"Not important?" He blanched. "Belle, you punched him. For punching me. Have you seen him? He looks absolutely horrid! What on earth possessed you?" He reached down and grasped her hands and noticed that she winced. She'd done that the last time he'd taken her hand, and he looked down to see her knuckles were a light purple. She hadn't said a word about it; she never would have if he hadn't gone looking for Wilmar.

"I don't tolerate bullies. And he's been a problem for far too long," she said simply. "Besides, I did it as much for me as I did for you."

"It doesn't matter which of us it was for, that was brilliant!" He exclaimed. "You marvelous girl; I love you!"

He froze, staring down at her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. He loved her, true, but he hadn't planned on admitting it for some time. Yet now that he'd spoken them, he felt nothing but relief. He was tired of hiding how he felt. He had always been fond of her but now it was definitely love and nothing felt as right as saying the words aloud. It didn't matter that they'd only known each other a short time or that they'd been courting less than a fortnight; he loved her. He'd never been a confident or sure man, but he'd never been so sure of anything in his life. He desperately loved her.

Her eyes were bright, sparkling with joy as her lips spread in a smile. "I love you, too."

There were so many things he could say; so many things he wanted to say but he could not find the words. Even after all her diligent teaching he couldn't piece together the proper words to express his joy, so instead he laughed loud and long. In his excitement, he wrapped her in his arms and spun her around, feeling delirious for reasons other than his pounding head. His heart and arms were full of Belle, and all was right in the world.

At last he put her down but they did not move away. He lifted her hand and gently kissed the bruised knuckles, careful not to cause her any further discomfort. She hadn't wanted Rumplestiltskin to know what she'd done. Many men would be upset to think that a woman had to stand up for them. Rumple was not like other men, but she hadn't wanted him to look upon her with anything other than favor. She had admired that he'd not resorted to violence, instead using his words to stop Wilmar in his tracks, and Belle valued words. Words were her weapon of choice and she could outwit, out speak, and overwhelm most people in the village with her rhetoric. Rumple seemed to share the same belief, that words – now that he had them – were better than violence. But even then, words could not leave a lasting impact on someone like Wilmar who threw around names and insults carelessly. He put no thought into what he said and it would take more to put someone like him in his place. Wilmar was brash. He He settled things by strength and brawn. She was not physically strong but her mind was sharp and she knew, both from her books and from watching the boys brawling with one another, how to hit. She hadn't realized just how hard she could throw a punch until today and as proud as she was of her accomplishment, the dull ache in her hand reminded her of why she shied away from physical fights and preferred to fight with words.

Rumplestiltskin had stepped up and shown his courage but he had suffered for it. The least Belle could do was help him along when words no longer proved useful. She could not deny the fact that she also gained a small bit of pleasure in knowing that word would spread all over the village of how one of the toughest lads in the area had been bested by a woman. Perhaps words would prove to be the more powerful weapon yet. She pushed those thoughts aside as she and Rumplestiltskin continued to embrace. He whispered again that he loved her, sounding timid now that the excitement of his discovery had worn off. She responded in kind, giggling when he leaned down to kiss her again.

Inside, Maurice shook his head as he turned away from the shameless display outside. He would have to talk to her about behaving that way where any could see. He would also need to make sure Belle's dowry was ready. Based on what he'd just overheard confessed between the two of them, he suspected it would only be a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words! I appreciate it so much! 
> 
> Chapter 6 will be up November 22!
> 
> Please see chapters 1 or 2 for the disclaimer.


	6. Unconventional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wish I didn't have to go,” she whispered, “I hate leaving. I know we aren't far away from each other, but I don’t like saying goodbye.”

Chapter 6: Unconventional

The news came as quickly as a howling wind and left the people confused and uncertain in its wake. A large band of ogres, creatures, foul and feared who lived in the caves in the mountains far away, had begun traveling down from their caves and terrorizing the villages at the foothills. It had started with a few sparse attacks but quickly grown into hordes of ogres bringing their strength and numbers upon the helpless villages.

It quickly became clear that the ogres were not easily defeated so the king ordered soldiers to march out and meet the ogres in battle. When word of this reached the villages, Rumplestiltskin trembled in fear. The thought that ogres might make it to their land was a terrifying thought, but Belle had encouraged him and told him not to worry. She claimed the soldiers would take care of the ogres and things would once again be peaceful.

It was the first time Belle had ever been wrong.

Rumors began floating around the village that if the fight with the ogres progressed, there would be a draft. Rumplestiltskin hoped there would be no such thing. The thought of countless men being sent out to fight the vicious creatures was not a pleasant one, and Rumplestiltskin prayed desperately that a draft would not come.

And yet, the thought of going out and protecting his village and the people he loved within was inspiring. He had no visions of grandeur and no plans to become some village hero, but he knew there was honor and glory in protecting his land, his home, and his family. He thought long and hard about what would become of him if he were ever drafted, and he told himself that should that day come, he would hold his head high and be brave. He wanted to be brave to prove to himself that he could be. He wanted to be brave for Belle. He'd felt nothing but pride when she'd thanked him for standing up for her to Wilmar. He wanted to once again make her proud to have chosen him. Belle, however, did not seem to enjoy hearing about the ogres, so he kept all his opinions on fighting to himself.

Belle thought the fighting was foolish and unproductive. There had been too many stories of men dying in gruesome and tragic ways, and to Belle that should have been enough to determine a new course of action. If the current method did not work, choose a new one. Surely it was better than allowing men to die; however, her opinion was unpopular. The rest of the village seemed to take a perverse joy in hearing tales about the Ogre Wars, as they were now calling it. Tales of men sacrificing themselves for their comrades and recounts of men being pulled apart by the large creatures sent a thrill through the people. The excitement of the stories more enjoyable since the war was so far from their doorstep. Belle would often comment gruffly that the people would not take such interest in hearing the latest tales when the subjects were their sons and brothers.

It was with that thought in mind that Rumplestiltskin came to a decision. The war, such as it was, was far away; but with reports coming in frequently about the ogres overpowering the men who faced them, Rumplestiltskin decided that he no longer wanted to wait around for the opportune time to have a serious discussion with Belle's father. Things were moving quickly with the ogres, and he allowed his fear to spur him into action. He reached Belle's home and knocked, rocking back on his heels in nervous anticipation. The door swung open, and Maurice blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Rumplestiltskin.

"Belle is out on an errand," he stated plainly and Rumplestiltskin nodded.

"Yes, I know," he said with a slight cough, "That's exactly why I'm here."

"Oh gods," Maurice groaned, but his smile hinted that it was more exaggerated and for show. "I know why you're here."

Offering a hesitant smile, Rumplestiltskin answered, "I suppose you do. May I?" he gestured toward the door and Maurice stepped aside to allow Rumplestiltskin room to enter. He did so and then stood nervously, waiting for Maurice, who quickly made himself busy pouring a glass of sweet wine for the two of them. He slid one of the mugs across the table toward Rumplestiltskin. He caught it easily and took a large drink, adding fuel to his inner fire.

"So I suppose you're here because you want to marry my daughter?" Maurice asked, getting right to the point. Rumplestiltskin took another deep drink from his cup and nodded.

"Yes, sir," he answered. "I would like that very much."

Maurice nodded and looked down at his own drink. He sat in that way for several long minutes, and his face grew pale, as if he were ill. "When my wife died," he began suddenly, startling Rumplestiltskin, "I thought my life was ended. Rose had been my world for so long that I had no idea what to do with myself without her. I mourned for my wife for a long time," he paused and fiddled with the small metal ring that rested on his finger, "I still mourn for her. And I would have succumb to my despair had it not been for Belle. She was only a child, but she was so kind and caring; and she looks so much like her mother. She became my world and she helped me to carry on. I don't' know if she knows just how lost I would be without her."

He sat silently for some time, playing idly with the cup in his hands, looking every bit the broken widower he was. Rumplestiltskin watched him in silence, allowing the other man's despair to settle over him, making his skin rise with gooseflesh. Maurice's sorrow was fresh even after so long, and the wound was deep. Finally, Maurice looked up and gave Rumplestiltskin a sad smile. "Do you know why I told you that?" he asked.

Rumplestiltskin did not, and he admitted it.

"I want you to understand how important my daughter is to me. I need to know that if I let her go, she'll be taken care of. She'll be loved. She will be your world as my Rose was to me."

Rumplestiltskin wanted to speak, but the lump in his throat prevented him from doing so. He loved Belle tremendously, as did her father. Rumplestiltskin never had a father's love and to see this man speak of his daughter in such a warm and devoted way only fueled his desire to love and cherish her more. He would be a worthy husband. He would ensure that her father never had to worry about whether or not his dear Belle was loved. She would be so loved.

Fighting to keep his emotions in check, Rumplestiltskin set his gaze firmly on the other man. "I can't promise you that I'll be able to give her much," he began, "But she will have all the love and respect I can possibly give her. If she will have me, I will give her all I have."

Maurice seemed to take a moment to consider Rumplestiltskin's statement. Then he stretched his hand out across the table, offering it to Rumplestiltskin. "I've no doubt she'll say yes. You make her happy and it's clear that you love one another. You have my blessing.

Rumplestiltskin stared at the proffered hand with his eyes wide and mouth agape. Then he seemed to realize what had occurred and with an uncharacteristic shout he leapt toward Maurice and grasped his hand with a firm grip.

"Thank you so much," he gasped. His excitement and relief welled up inside him, ready to burst.

Maurice chuckled at his future son-in-law's excitement. "Would you like to discuss her dowry now, or wait until she accepts?"

"I-I suppose now," Rumplestiltskin spoke hesitantly.

Maurice nodded, clearly transforming from doting father to stern businessman. He began to list off the items that would join Belle in her marriage to Rumplestiltskin: clothing, linen, several books, and a large amount of money. Rumplestiltskin's mouth sagged at the sum, but he forced himself to remain quiet. He could think of numerous investments he could make with that kind of money, but that would not be up to him. This money was Belle's. He would not do anything without her permission. He only hoped that she would be willing to assist him in his desire to invest in some sheep.

After talking for a while longer, Rumplestiltskin departed, not wanting Belle to see him at her home at such an odd hour of the day. He did not want her to suspect anything, so he quickly returned home and began thinking of the perfect way to ask for her hand. Rumplestiltskin was fortunate in his circumstances; most girls were not allowed to pick their husbands, and when families were desperate enough, the boys were offered up as well. Rumplestiltskin had never had anyone desire to be his, nor had the spinsters who raised him seen the need to pawn him off for money.

He sat at his spinning wheel, spinning wool as he thought. He always did his best thinking at the wheel, and now was no exception. He had nothing he could offer her as a gift, and he glanced around his small shack in the hopes that a sufficient gift would appear merely by thinking of it. It did not and he sighed, shaking his head at his foolishness. Of course he could not conjure something out of thin air. That wasn't possible for someone like him.

He thought of collecting more flowers, but he knew that would never do. She had loved the flowers he'd given her the night of the festival, but they had not even been courting then; how could he ask for her hand and merely give her flowers.

He knew It was not necessary to give a gift, because most people had little enough of their own as it was. But he was determined to make an impression when he asked her, and he would be damned if he bent his knee with nothing to lift up to her.

He continued to spin, wondering what he could possibly offer his Belle. His thoughts began to race and as they sped, so did the wheel. He thought and spun until the last of the wool was complete and he absently began to wind the material up in preparation for his morning trip to the market.

How he envied Ebert; the hateful man was the only provider of fabrics and cloth in the village and although he had been reasonable with Rumplestiltskin of late, his prices were hardly fair. Rumplestiltskin could not deny the man had excellent quality fabric and materials that he would love to get his hands on, but even if he could afford to purchase the extra materials, he would have no idea what to make-

And then he had it. In his mind he could see the perfect gift for Belle. She was not a vain girl, nor did she care about the state of her clothing. She had never learned to sew either, and was forced to take her mending elsewhere. But that was it. He had seen her clothing, the two dresses she had to wear: one a simple brown, the other a pale green. Other than the few items in her trousseau that came with her dowry, she had little else.

And like that, he decided. He would make her a dress.

~000~

Rumplestiltskin made his way to Ebert's stand early the next morning. He wanted to beat the crowds, which were beginning to take form, and rush back home so he could begin working on his gift for Belle.

He could see the dress in his mind. It would be simple and comfortable; something she could work in but still look lovely. He debated about what color to dye the material and after he went through his stores, he decided on a lovely shade of blue to match her eyes.

He arrived at the stand where Ebert had just finished setting up his goods. Rumplestiltskin placed his basket on the small counter and pushed it toward the man.

"I'd like to trade today," Rumplestiltskin said gently, afraid the man's mood would be poor.

"Just what I want," he grumbled. "Yer ugly mutt showin' up first thing. What you want to trade fer?"

Rumplestiltskin knew exactly what items Ebert had to sell, and he pointed to a bundle of rough woven linen. "I'd like that," he said. "However much you'll give me."

Rolling his eyes, Ebert checked the wool then grabbed the bundle of linen and unwound it. Taking a pair of scissors, he snipped off a length of it before shoving it toward Rumplestiltskin. "That good enough for you?" He asked hatefully.

Rumplestiltskin had an eye for material and he could easily tell that he'd been given roughly three yards of the material - more than enough to make a dress for Belle. He thanked Ebert, sighing to himself when the man tossed out another insult and then another for good measure. Rumple grabbed his basket and took off. He told himself that one day he'd stand up to the hateful man and show him that he wasn't someone to push around. He could envision it in his mind, but that was where his bravery would remain. As much as he wanted to tell the man what he thought of him, Rumple relied on Ebert to buy his wool, and to insult a man much larger and meaner than him would surely cause him to lose his sole buyer.

He returned to his shack and began preparations for dying the fabric. He worked long and hard through the day. The process was lengthy, but finally the material was dyed and hanging out to dry. He worried that Belle might see it on the line, but he had no other options and would think up something to tell her to ward off any suspicion. After he cleaned up his mess, most of the day had passed and he was due to visit his sweetheart for another reading lesson.

~000~

He loved the stories they read together. She seemed to know his taste in books, though he hadn't realized he had one; and they devoured books together, taking turns reading and discussing what happened within the pages. Belle craved books and learning and he found that it was quite the enjoyable addiction. It was a treat to escape to a different world, with brave knights and beautiful princesses and monsters that were not always so. The world around them was quickly spiraling into a chaotic mess of war stories and silently growing fear that the ogres would advance, but with Belle by his side and a book in their hands, there were no worries.

He walked to Belle's home again, his steps slow and languid. He was in no rush, instead enjoying the cool evening breeze and uncommon silence that filled the air. No doubt many of the people were gathered at the pub trying to find out the latest news about the ogres. He knocked on the door, eager to greet his beloved and when she opened the door, she smiled brightly at him. He kissed her hand then entered the house to see Maurice sitting at his desk writing a letter and they greeted each other with scheming grins. He knew he was not much of a prospect, but he was glad that Belle's father had given him permission to ask for her hand. Knowing that Maurice held him in his favor made him feel worthy of Belle's love. He also had to admit that it felt nice to share a secret with someone, as if they were friends. He had not had many friends when he'd been growing up and any friendships he'd managed to acquire had long since abandoned him for fellows who were not under the lasting shadow of their malevolent fathers.

"Come on," Belle said, tugging on his arm. "It's a lovely evening. Why don't we read outside?"

He nodded, embarrassed at how easily it was for her to make him speechless, even after courting for several weeks. He followed her obediently out the small back door and into the field that was behind the house. It was small and modest, but good land that would no doubt one day be passed onto Belle. Rumplestiltskin knew, based on his conversation with Maurice that the man did not begrudge his lack of sons, and he would gladly give over everything to his daughter. It made him pleased that Belle had such a father and not a man like Hagan who cursed his daughters and longed for sons.

Belle moved to the middle of the field and sat down. She glanced up at him, reached up with one arm, and pulled on his hand to have him sit next to her. He did so, his leg brushing against hers and the feeling sent a whirlwind of thoughts through his mind. He could see Belle with him in his home, snuggled up by the fire reading. He could see them sitting in the field near the path he took to Hagan's, with her lounging in the space between his legs. He could see them walking hand in hand through the town square, his arm wrapped around her. He could imagine pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek and no one would be able to say anything about propriety because she was his wife and he could do as he pleased.

It was enough to make him want to ask for her hand right then. He had half a mind to just do it and let the dress be a wedding gift instead. But he'd planned this a certain way, and he would not stray from his path. He refrained and gently took the book from her hands and opened it up to the place where they'd left off. He began to read, his face growing hot as she leaned over closer to him. She wrapped one hand around his arm and followed him intently, making sure he pronounced every word correctly. It was a wonder he remembered how to read, so distracted was he. Having Belle so close made his blood rush and his thoughts wander to even more distracting and ungentlemanly thoughts, but he forced himself to focus, and tried to ignore the glorious feeling of her fingers gently rubbing his forearm. She was driving him mad, and surely she knew it. He pressed on, determined not to lose sight of himself and do something untoward. He read for an hour, only stopping because his throat began to hurt and Belle gently reclaimed the book from him and called the session over.

The strode back into the house arm in arm, and after lingering for a few minutes longer, Rumplestiltskin bid her and her father good night, then snuck a quick kiss from Belle. He returned home, where he sat up the rest of the night preparing the material to be cut and sewn the next day. He was growing impatient, eager to be with Belle - if she would have him - and the sooner he could finish his gift for her, the sooner he could present it to her and ask for her hand. He worked late into the night, only stopping when he could no longer hold his eyes open. He collapsed into the bed and fell asleep instantly.

He awoke after the sun had already risen that morning. He groaned and cursed, leaping from the bed to begin working on the dress. He measured and cut and sewed until the dress began to take shape. He was pleased with how it was turning out, and he could not wait to see Belle in the dress he'd made specifically for her. He did not have much to offer her, but he was skilled at spinning and sewing - things that were often thought of as women's work. But he took pride in his skill, and he hoped that Belle would appreciate his efforts, even if making a dress for one's intended was a bit out of the ordinary. Neither of them had been very conventional, and it seemed only appropriate that his proposal be unconventional as well.

He worked for several more hours, not bothering to stop for food. His desire to finish his gift fueled him and he did not want to stop for anything if he did not have to. Finally, as the sun began to sink in the west, he draped the dress across his bed, admiring his work. One side still needed to be sewn, but he would do that after he presented it to Belle. He had no way of knowing her measurements and he could not afford much more cloth should he mess up. No, he would offer it to her, and if she accepted it, he would have her try it on so that he could properly finish it. It was the safest course of action and he clapped his hands together in excitement.

He had just made the decision to wait until the next day, which would give him plenty of time to think of what he would possibly say, when there was a gentle knock on his door. Knowing it could be no one else, he quickly grabbed the dress and hid it in the basket next to his spinning wheel, then rushed to the door. Belle stood on the other side, looking as lovely as always and Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard as he looked upon her. What had he done to deserve her?

"Good evening," she said, giggling when he continued to stare at her. Her smile twitched in amusement when he failed to answer, so she repeated her greeting, which caused Rumplestiltskin to shake himself out of his stupor and respond in kind. He stepped aside to allow her entry, and she brushed past him, making herself comfortable on one of his stools. Turning to look up at him, she explained. "Someone had urgent business with my father. I didn't feel like being alone. I hope you don't mind."

He stumbled forward and knelt awkwardly at her feet, reaching up to take one of her hands in his. "Of course I don't mind!" He exclaimed. "Every moment you spend with me is a moment I cherish."

She blushed, the rose color highlighting her features and making her look lovelier than ever. Rumplestiltskin rose up on his knees and brushed his knuckles over cheeks, loving the way she shivered under his touch. It was not proper for them to be alone like this. They were not wed, and if anyone saw Belle leaving his home after nightfall, there would be a flurry of distasteful rumors swirling about by sunrise. He knew he should escort her home, or walk with her outside to prevent anyone from thinking anything too suspicious. Yet she leaned into his touch, and reached out with her own hand, still slightly discolored and touched Rumple's face. He was still bruised as well though he could hardly feel it anymore.

Encouraged, he leaned forward, and his eyes met hers. She moved toward him, and he smiled before she brushed her lips against his. His eyes remained open, intent on watching her every expression as best he could, and he pressed his lips to hers more firmly, loving their softness. They kissed slowly, neither of them in a rush; and after some time he became so caught up in his exploration of her mouth that his eyes slipped closed and he lost himself in the feel of it all. It was still new to him, and the joy of having her here with him – to say nothing of the thrill he felt knowing that what they were doing was forbidden. Her reputation was still at stake, especially now. It was clear that thoughts of what others would think was far from her mind. It had already been made clear by Wilmar that some people thought her ruined already, and though it angered him to know that anyone dared think of his pure and precious Belle in such a way, he could not bring himself to fret anymore over whether or not they were seen. He was too busy enjoying this moment with Belle, and if his sweetheart wanted a kiss, he was not going to let his fear of what others might say stop him from enjoying the favors she offered freely.

He knew what others thought and said about him, and none of it was kind. Why should he sacrifice the one joy he had worrying over what they might say next? As long as Belle continued to kiss him, the rest of the village could be damned.

Their lips were separated by only a breath, both of them breathing heavily. Belle giggled breathlessly and placed another warm and sweet kiss against his lips before sitting back in the chair. She moved his hands so they were wrapped in hers and placed them primly on her lap.

"I should probably go home," she said after a long while. "Papa doesn't know I'm gone. I don't want to worry."

Rumplestiltskin nodded, hating that she was right. He did not want her to leave and judging by the look in her eyes, her reluctance to leave was as heavy as his reluctance to see her go. "I wish I didn't have to," she whispered after some time, causing Rumplestiltskin to meet her gaze sharply. "I hate having to watch you go at the end of the day," she said. "I hate leaving. I know we aren't far away from each other, but I don't like saying goodbye."

Just as when her actions had shocked him into telling her he loved her, her words now left him unable to do anything but speak out the one thing that had been on his mind the entire time she'd been in his arms.

"Marry me, then."

She blinked, clearly surprised, but then her eyes grew warm and a hesitant smile began to form. "What?"

He sat frozen, his eyes wide as he realized he'd just proposed in the worst way possible. He stood reluctantly, let go of her hands, and moved to the basket at his spinning wheel. Digging through it, he pulled out the fabric and unfolded it, turning around to hold the mostly-finished blue dress in front of him. He stepped forward and held the dress out, offering it to her sheepishly.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow," he said with a heavy sigh, "But it seems I can't ever do anything right when it comes to you." He toyed with the fabric in his hands, unsure of how to proceed. "I always feel like such a fool, but you never seem to mind." He gave the dress a small shake. "This is my gift to you. I have nothing else to offer you, and the only thing I'm good at is spinning and sewing. I wanted to make something to give to you when I asked for your hand, and the only thing I could think of was a dress."

She stood slowly and approached him, her expression unreadable. He swallowed thickly, waiting for her to laugh or reject him. Instead, she reached out with a tender hand and stroked the front of the dress, allowing the material to slide through her fingers. She looked up at him and it was only then that he realized she had tears in her eyes.

"You made this for me?"

"Aye," he answered softly. "I did."

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice full of awe.

"I have to finish it," he explained quickly, "I want to make sure it will fit you."

She took the dress from his hands and draped it gently over the spinning wheel. "You didn't have to do this. But it's wonderful, Rumple. I can't believe you went to all this trouble for me."

He smiled lovingly at her. "I would do anything for you, Belle. I love you."

She sighed happily, looking at him with love and affection. "Will you ask me again?"

It hadn't been what he'd planned, but with Belle, nothing had gone the way he'd expected. Unable to contain his excitement, he gripped one of her hands in his and quickly knelt down before her. Looking up into her eyes, he declared, "Belle, I love you more than I can possibly say. Will you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?"

She laughed joyfully and sank down to her knees to kiss him thoroughly. When she parted her lips from his, she answered with an enthusiastic, "Yes!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww yay!
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! All forms of feedback are greatly appreciated. I know I say it every week, but I am very grateful for all the response I'm getting from this story. Thank you! 
> 
> Next chapter will be up November 29. For all my American readers, Happy Thanksgiving! 
> 
>  
> 
> _Please see chapters 1 and/or 2 for the disclaimer._


	7. What Trials (Come Our Way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is this how it is to be?" She asked, her voice muffled against his chest, "Always?"

Chapter 7: What Trials (Come Our Way)

The talk of the Ogres continued to increase, but Rumplestiltskin paid it no mind. Instead, he chose to focus all his attention on his upcoming marriage. The news had not been met with much surprise nor much interest; there were far more exciting things to discuss than the whirlwind affair of the village outcast and the village bookworm. The few who did show any interest in the engagement were those who planned to take advantage of the feast that would be provided after the wedding ceremony. It was custom in the village to invite everyone to celebrate a wedding, and food was provided for all. It was never anything grand, but seeing as Maurice was one of the wealthier men of the village, it was presumptuously expected that he would provide a grand feast in honor of his only daughter.

Despite her excitement to become engaged, Belle had not made much of a fuss over her wedding. She had discussed some things with Rumple, and had expressed a desire to have her wedding at the end of the season, just before the snows would settle in. It was uncommon for couples to wed so late in the year because most preferred the warm summer season, but Belle had never been one to follow the ways of others and Rumple was simply willing to go wherever Belle led. He cared not if their wedding took place in a palace or in a field. He did not care if he spent the day sweating in the heat or shivering in the cold. All that mattered was at the end of the day, Belle became his wife.

It disheartened Rumple, however, to find that other than himself and her father, Belle had no one with whom she could share her excitement over her wedding. He had few friends, none of them particularly close to her. She was not completely alone though; the children of the village loved her, in part for her tendency to gather them together in the summer months and read stories to them. She would tell fantastic tales, all beloved stories from her books, and the children would beg for more and pout when her voice began to crack and she had to stop. But children did not understand the importance of weddings and marriage, and as dear as the children were to Belle, it became painfully obvious that Belle had no one on whom she could rely to prepare her and encourage her on the days leading up to her wedding.

Despite that lack of female companionship, Belle seemed to radiate happiness. There was a glow about her and a lightness in her step that had not been there before. Her smiles seemed wider when she greeted him, and her embraces seemed warmer. Every time she mentioned something about the wedding, she exuded a happiness that was befitting of a bride. She told him what she was planning and asked his opinion on almost everything and he would simply reply that he liked whatever she did and if she was happy, he was happy.

She admitted one day that despite her excitement, she was not terribly invested in the wedding itself. Rumple frowned at her words and she had been quick to correct herself. "I mean that I'm more excited to be married to you," she explained quickly. "I've dreamed of my wedding day, of course, but I find that the lifetime that follows to be the thing I am most excited about."

That had appeased Rumple, calming his sudden fear that she was losing interest. He would always have that fear, but her constant assurances to the contrary eased his mind and his heart. He feared, in the secret recesses of his mind that he dare not voice to her, that she would leave him one day. He fought away that fear as best he could, but it still lingered, catching him in his most unsuspecting and vulnerable moments. But Belle would come to him then, as if summoned by a secret magic that linked their hearts together and invite him out for a walk or something just as innocent and his fears would once again vanish.

She even joked on a few occasions about eloping. The wedding was still some time away, and she was not afraid to admit to Rumplestiltskin that she was growing impatient. He admitted to the same, and it was those moments he was certain she would grab his hand, drag him to the temple where the clerics resided and demand to be married on the spot. He always felt a pang of sorrow that she did not, but he was also grateful; he had no desire to face Maurice after such a scandalous act. The man would surely kill him.

He had to admit the idea held a certain appeal; he was ready for the engagement to end. Now that he had the assurance of her love and devotion, he wanted nothing more than to make it official so that he could begin his life with her. Time was a precious thing with the ogres growing ever closer to them, and he wanted to enjoy his time with his wife before they were attacked or he was drafted. The wedding could not come soon enough in his opinion. Like Belle, he did not care for the ceremony and was eager to get the formalities over with. He had no one whom he wished to invite; the spinsters who cared for him long dead, and so the people who attended the wedding would be there for Belle. Even then, they would mostly be there because Maurice was respected in the village and there was the promise of good food. Rumple had no desire to share his happy day with those who did not care for him, but he reminded himself that his wedding day was not about him, but about Belle, and if she did not care for a horde of people intruding on their special day, then he would endure it for her Always for her.

But more than anything, he longed for the wedding night. His cheeks burned, as did elsewhere, when the thought crossed his mind, but he never allowed his mind to wander to that night unless he was alone. He wondered if Belle, as well-read as she was, knew what would occur between them. Her mother had died when she was young, and she'd had no female companion to speak to about such things. He toyed with the idea of broaching the subject with her. The last thing he wanted to do was to startle or alarm her when he began to undress in front of her, with the intent of doing the same to her, but his shyness kept him from mentioning it. It was not proper, and he did not want to presume anything about his bride-to-be. If she were curious, she would ask. It was in her nature, and the longer she went without saying a word, he was sure that she was aware of what would transpire between them. And how he longed for it! To be so close with her; to hold her in his arms each night and awake to the same great pleasure. He felt a thrill every time they kissed, and he could not wait until they could finally express their love for each other without having to hide or sneak quick kisses. He was ready to be a husband; he was ready to properly love his Belle.

Those thoughts sat heavily in the back of his mind as he and Belle walked through the village square one afternoon, Belle discussing more details about their wedding. He listened intently, ever the doting fiancé, and as she spoke. He could feel his excitement growing, an extension of Belle's own clear joy, and it was not until he felt his back pressed up against a wall that he realized they were no longer in the middle of the market, but instead in a dark and secluded alley way. He glanced at Belle with a raised eyebrow, wondering what had caused her to bring the here. Her lips her curved downward, as if she were displeased with him.

"You were a thousand miles away," she said softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I hope I'm not boring you."

He leaned down and kissed her in response, careless of the fact they were in public. "Just thinking of how beautiful you're going to look on our wedding day," he whispered, bringing up a hand to brush his fingers against her cheek. Her smile grew and she gazed at him with love. It was moments like this he wished they were already wed. He wanted nothing more than to whisk her to his home and show her just how much he loved her. Pressing one last kiss to her lips, he pushed himself off the wall and began to lead her back out into the crowd. "We should be careful," he warned. "Someone might see."

She shrugged her shoulders lazily and scoffed. "It's no one's concern," she said. "If I want to kiss my husband-to-be, then I think it should be my right to do so."

"And I agree with that whole-heartedly," Rumplestiltskin teased, smiling down at her, "But even still. You're father instructed us to be careful. And the last thing I want to do is get you in trouble. I'd like to live long enough to actually marry you," he said with a wink.

"You're probably right," Belle sighed as she slid her arm through his, walking back toward the square. "While I may preach about my distaste of the hypocrisy of how people treat others in this village at times, I suppose father is right and that I should remember that my opinion is not the common one. And people do enjoy a good gossip. I don't want to give them any fuel to add to their fire."

"Beautifully said," Rumple agreed, patting her hand gently with his. "Though when we are wed we may do as we please, everyone else be damned."

Belle gasped playfully, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Such language!" She exclaimed, "What would my father say if he heard you speak that way in front of a lady?"

Rumplestiltskin laughed and moved closer to her. "I imagine he'd think I learned it from you," he teased. "You are the one working to expand my vocabulary."

Belle smacked his arm, causing Rumplestiltskin to laugh. It was a simple moment between them, but it brought him overabundant joy.

~000~

Belle sat by the fire reading. Rumplestiltskin had escorted her home a few hours ago, apologizing profusely for having to leave her in order to attend to his chores. She had let him go with grace, but now as she sat alone in her father's house, she wished she were already married so she could read by the fire while he worked, his presence a comfort and pleasure she desired with ever increasing frequency. She tried to gather her thoughts and focus on the book in her hands, but just as she was getting into the story, her father burst in, looking displeased.

He tossed his cloak and a few books carelessly onto the table and stalked over to his daughter, who stood to greet him, her face scrunched in concern. "Is something the matter, Papa?" She asked.

The harsh look that was his response took Belle's breath, and she stepped back in surprise. Her father rarely showed anger, and it was even less frequent that it was directed at her.

"What did I tell you about being careful?" He demanded, "What did I tell you about how people would talk?"

Belle stared nervously at her father. "I don't understand. What's happened?"

Maurice sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. "Belle," he said with a sigh, "You can't carry on as if you are untouchable. People are talking about you. About your relationship. And nothing good is being said."

"What is being said?" Belle asked timidly.

"Well, as proud as I am of you for this, there is talk going around from when you punched Wilmar," Maurice began, "You're being called all manner of names. Rumplestiltskin too, for needing a woman to stand up for him." Maurice held his hands up quickly and added, "Not my opinion, of course."

Belle frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "And is no one talking about Wilmar? About how he was bested by a girl? About how he insulted me and called me a whore when he had no business doing so? Where is my justice? Why is it that Wilmar is the victim here when Rumple and I were not the ones who started the fight to begin with?"

Maurice stepped forward and rested his hands on Belle's arms. "I'm not saying it's fair, my dear," he said, "I'm only telling you what I overheard. People are vicious and cruel and because you are not like them, because you and Rumplestiltskin are different, you are noticed. And because people dislike the man, though their reasons may be unwarranted, if they can cause him any pain, they are going to try. And now? It's clear what he holds dear."

"Me," Belle stated.

"You," Maurice agreed. "And because you are not like other girls, because you don't hold yourself to the same standards and you question the way of things, you are going to be called out as well. You've always been different and you've always known that. I've always encouraged it. But you must understand that in this place you have few allies. There are few who value you for who you are. Women are meant to be seen and not heard. And you, child, have never dealt well with silence."

"It's hardly right."

"I know," Maurice agreed. "But it's the way things are. And you've put yourself in a position for ridicule. And as much as it hurts my heart to know that people do not see you the way I do; as a beautiful, smart, capable young woman, I also understand that there are expectations of a young woman of our society. And though you disagree with it, you must adhere to it if you want any peace. You have to be careful, Belle," Maurice said earnestly, "Or you are going to get hurt."

"I'm already hurt," Belle admitted. "Wilmar called me a whore but he's pitied because he was punched by a girl, yet I'm looked upon with disdain because I had the courage to stand up for myself? For Rumple?"

"The world has never been a fair place," Maurice said solemnly. "It is a lesson I hoped you would never have to learn."

"And yet I feel as if I've just been given a sound lesson."

Maurice watched her for several long moments, trying to judge her mood. After a moment, he decided to speak once more. "You do know it will never get easier, yes?"

Belle lifted her eyes to meet his, and his heart ached at the pain he saw within. "What do you mean, Papa?" Her voice was small, and he saw her as a little girl once more.

"I have given you my blessing," he said, "But there are many who have not. Rumplestiltskin, despite your love for him, is beneath you. This marriage is not advantageous for you."

"He's not beneath me," Belle answered indignantly.

"No matter what you think," Maurice responded, "He is. He is poor. He does not have much to offer you. Not to mention the fact that he is an outcast in this village. Many feel you are making a grave error in marrying him. Despite people's thoughts about you, you are looked upon with more favor than Rumplestiltskin. By marrying him you are binding yourself to him and what is said against him will also be against you." He sighed heavily and pulled his daughter close to embrace her. "Would that I could protect you from the harshness of this world, Belle. But I cannot."

Belle wrapped her arms around her father, seeking comfort in his embrace. He was warm, and his large arms covered her small frame with ease. She rested against him, feeling safe and protected from the cruelty of the world outside. In here, in her father's arms she could pretend there was nothing else. Here she could be safe. "Is this how it is to be?" She asked, her voice muffled against his chest, "Always?"

"Most likely, my girl," He told her. "But if you marry him, even after this, then you are taking on this willingly. His pain will become your pain and you will have to be strong enough to endure it. You must be there for him for better and for worse. And there will be so much more of the latter. They will try to drag your name and your spirit through the mud. But you must not let them soil your spirit."

"I refuse to let either of us be dragged anywhere," she said with determination, stepping back to look at her father directly. "I'm not afraid of them. I love Rumplestiltskin and I don't give a fig what anyone else thinks on the matter. I will stand by him no matter what trials come our way."

For the first time since she'd arrived home, he smiled. "That's my girl."

"But there will be no wedding."

Maurice blinked. "What?"

"I will not share my day with people who treat my future husband and I poorly. They do not deserve to celebrate with us. All we need is a cleric and two witnesses for the contract. Why should you spend your money and feed those who will turn right around and speak ill of your daughter and her husband?"

"The villagers will be very put out if they are not invited," Maurice explained, though there was very little effort behind the words. "And they will be unforgiving. Scorning them will do you no favors in the future."

"They should have thought of that before they were unkind," She declared before squeezing her father's hands. "Do you support me in this, Papa?" She asked. "If you wish me to, I will carry on as planned. But I think it's time we stopped doing things just because others demand it of us. Change will never come unless someone is brave enough to usher it in."

He was silent for a long time, gazing at his daughter carefully. She was so brave and he admired her for her courage. Not only was she brave enough to love a man that no one else could, but she actively stood up for him and faced down hateful boys who thought it good fun to hurt others. When she admitted to him while Rumplestiltskin had been out cold that she'd punched Wilmar, he laughed, then sighed as he realized that she was indeed serious about pursuing the spinner. And now that the spinner held his daughter's heart, he knew that things would not be easy for them. But he also knew his daughter's tenacity and strength, and no one would convince her that Rumplestiltskin was not worthy of her love. If anything their words made her love him more, for he bore their cruelty with silent resolve. She had always been fond of helping those who were unable to help themselves.

"I think you're right, my girl," Maurice agreed. "Tell your boy your plan and if he's agreeable to it, we'll tell the whole village to screw themselves."

"Papa!" She exclaimed, laughing as his use of language. He always discouraged her from using such vulgar words, but it seemed her fire had sparked a touch of defiance in him as well.

"Go get some sleep," he told her, turning and gently pushing her toward her small room. "You're going to need all your strength in the days to come."

"Love is strength, Papa," Belle declared gently, turning to face him once more. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and grinned, "And between the love I have for you and Rumplestiltskin, I feel as if I could take on the world!"

Maurice watched his daughter retreat to the small divided space that was her room. "You're going to have to be," he murmured to himself, "But the world will be no match for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving (and if you don't celebrate, I hope you had a wonderful Thursday.)
> 
> Thank you again for your kudos and favorites. It means the world to me. 
> 
> I have a lot going on next week, so Chapter 8 may be posted on December 7 instead of December 6. But it will be up no matter what.
> 
> _Disclaimer:_ Please see Chapters 1 and/or 2 for the full disclaimer.


	8. Alterations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumplestiltskin stared at Belle with horror. He'd known something was wrong when he saw the look in her eyes, but he'd never expected her to suggest _this_.

Chapter 8: Alterations

"You can't be serious."

Rumplestiltskin stared at Belle with horror. She had caught him in the midst of preparing a bundle of wool to be spun, and he'd dropped everything to devote his attention to her. He'd known something was wrong when he saw the look in her eyes but he had never expected her to suggest something so outrageous.

"I am perfectly serious, Rumple."

And she was. Rumplestiltskin had never seen her so resolved or so stern. She'd told him what her father had said; people had been making comments about them; their relationship, the incident with Wilmar, and the fact that they ignored propriety. The last one was entirely foolish, as Rumple had been sure to be very careful, but he knew that people would believe what they wanted.

"We won't do it if you are against it," she conceded at length, kneeling at his feet and clasping his hands in hers, "But Papa supports it. It's not really an elopement. We're just…getting married without all the pomp and circumstance."

He regarded her for a long while. This would be the perfect solution, really. He did not want a lot of people present, and he wanted to wed her as soon as possible. They could be husband and wife within a week, if he agreed to this. But perhaps there was another issue that should be addressed first.

With a sigh, Rumple spoke. "Maybe this is just proof that I'm not a wise choice."

Belle tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked her, barring his teeth in frustration. "The only thing that is going to come from our marriage is you getting hurt. You're binding yourself to the son of a coward. My father's legacy overshadows my own, and I'm looked at with nothing but disdain. Perhaps the people are right when they say you could do better than me. All I'm going to end up giving you is pain."

Her fingers twitched, itching to reach up and slap some sense into him. She refused to let the impulse take her and she swallowed her anger. "You'll cause me pain if you don't marry me," she argued, "Who cares what others think of us? I have my father's blessing, and I know you love me. Why should anything else matter? Why should we live our lives according to how other's think we should? I told you at the summer festival that we're more than our reputations and I don't care what your father did. I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with you."

His lifted his hand to her cheek and brushed his fingers gently against her skin. "You _really_ want to marry me." He spoke softly, the comment more for his own assurance.

"I also really want my blue dress."

He blinked, confused, and then laughed heartily when he saw Belle's cheeky grin. Her ability to lighten his mood was a special gift indeed, and he bent over to kiss her cheek in thanks. "Marry me and it's yours."

She squeezed his hand. "Deal."

~000~

They decided to marry a week from that day. Maurice had been agreeable to the date and had begun making arrangements with the clerics to perform the ceremony. They made no announcement that the original wedding was canceled or changed. Instead they decided to hold the ceremony in the late afternoon where people would be able to see Belle enter the chapel dressed in her wedding finery. It was quite the insult to the people, but none of them felt any remorse over it. Instead, Maurice enjoyed his time with his daughter, and Belle and Rumple enjoyed what time was left of their betrothal. There was nothing left to plan, save for Belle picking some flowers the morning of her wedding for her bouquet.

Time passed far too slowly in Rumplestiltskin's opinion. He did his best to focus on his work to make the time go on, but no matter how much work he managed to accomplish, the days seemed to drag. He began preparing his home for its newest occupant, tidying as much as he could and moving his things around to ensure Belle had space for what she brought with her. Neither of them had much, but his home was not a large one; and he wanted to ensure the space was used properly. He'd learned from the spinsters who cared for him that one could make even the smallest of spaces into a comfortable and satisfactory home. He hoped this place would satisfy Belle.

While he kept busy, so did Belle. She packed her few belongings away and ensuring her father knew where everything was in his own home. She'd been the one to take care of the domestic affairs in their home, and she suspected he would not be able to find anything after her departure. She made lists indicating all that they had and instructions on how to various tasks, such as how to prepare tea. It was a task he had delegated to her several years ago. When she handed him the papers he glanced over them quickly before putting them aside and gathering Belle in his arms, weeping over the loss of his daughter. Belle was not used to seeing such a display from her father, but she held him and comforted him, reminding him that she would not be far away and would visit often.

"I know," Maurice said, wiping at his nose with his sleeve, "I just wish I could scare that boy off and keep you with me always," he said sorrowfully. "It doesn't seem right that my little girl is old enough to marry. I want to keep you as the child that I used to read to before bed time."

Belle rubbed her father's back in an effort to comfort him. "I'll always be your daughter, Papa," she said softly, "And I promise, when I get mad at Rumple, I'll come straight here and let you take care of me just like old times." She giggled, and it caused Maurice to chuckle as well. He squeezed her one last time then stepped back, regarding her with pride.

Gods know I didn't deserve a child like you, and it was through no work of my own, but you have truly become an incredible woman."

Belle smiled, her eyes shining with tears; she hugged her father once more before instructing him to read her notes so that he could survive when she left.

~000~

The day before the wedding came and Rumplestiltskin was in a panic. Nerves about the ceremony and excitement for the future that lay before him caused his hands to shake as he spun. He cursed loudly and frequently when all he accomplished was causing his work to tangle. Tossing everything aside, he stood and decided to be productive some other way. He began to sweep, though the floor had been swept at least ten times in the past several days, but he needed to occupy himself. He swept every corner, then swept again. By the time he was finished the shack was spotless. He leaned against the broom handle with satisfaction. Belle would be pleased to enter her new home and find it looking immaculate. She would no doubt be impressed. The place was mostly bare, and there was hardly anything of any real color or decoration. But a woman would soon reside here and the room would be brightened with flowers, colorful linens, and a woman's touch.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts and he answered it, surprised to see Maurice standing there, looking slightly frazzled. Concerned, Rumplestiltskin asked, "What's the matter?"

"It's Belle," Maurice said quickly. "She's upset and crying and I don't know what to do."

Maurice looked helpless as though he had no idea how to make things better, so Rumple threw down his broom and grabbed his cloak. "Where is she?" He asked.

Maurice took off in the direction of his home and turned to motion Rumplestiltskin to follow him. "Come on." Rumplestiltskin followed, worrying about what could have happened to Belle that left even Maurice stunned. Perhaps she'd overheard someone make more hateful comments? Perhaps she was having second thoughts about the wedding or even wished to go back to their original plan to marry before winter. Whatever the cause, Rumplestiltskin vowed to make it right. No matter what it took, he would see that his Belle was cared for. Whatever the reason though, Belle was not one to cry easily and if she had been so inconsolable that her father had to come rushing for his help must have been terrible indeed.

They reached the house, and Maurice stood aside to allow Rumplestiltskin to approach the divider that kept her small room closed off from the view of the main room. He called out gently, "Belle?"

He heard a sniffle followed by a hiccup but she said nothing. Growing even more concerned, Rumplestiltskin put his hand up to the fabric that separated them. "If you don't answer, I'm going to come in."

"Come in, then."

He breathed a sigh of relief to know that she was going to allow him entrance into her private room. He glanced back at Maurice, who motioned for him to go inside, then brushed back the curtain he walked though. And immediately slapped his hand over his eyes. He'd only seen her for a moment, but he knew exactly what she was wearing.

"Belle!" He exclaimed, "I'm not to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding!"

He could feel her roll her eyes. Whatever her problem was, his concern for an old superstition was irrelevant.

"It doesn't fit," she whispered, and he'd never heard her sound so small and defeated.

He removed his hands and opened his eyes, trying his best not to gape as he took in the sight before him. The dress was beautiful and finely crafted; it was old, but still in excellent shape. It was after he'd taken in the finery of the gown and how lovely his bride looked in it that he realized she was clutching it to her chest wth a deep frown set on her features.

"I can see that," he said with a chuckle. He stepped forward, relief filling him. Now that he was closer to her, he could see she was still crying. Her cheeks were stained and her eyes were puffy, but he'd never thought she looked so beautiful. "It's nothing to cry over, sweetheart," he assured her as he ran his hands over her arms, careful not to move the fabric too much. "We can bring it in."

The tears came again, full force. She pressed herself against him, hugging him tightly.

"You can fix it?" She asked, sounding amazed as if he'd just told her he could turn the fabric into gold. He'd never seen her look so pitiful, and he loved her all the more for it. He loved Belle for her bravery and intellect, but it was also a comfort to see her behave in such a way. It pleased him to know that despite all he lacked, he could still do something for her.

"If your father doesn't mind, I'll go get my things and come back here and get you all fixed up."

She grinned through her tears and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing his neck tightly. "Thank you so much!" She exclaimed.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead to soothe her and stepped out of the room to see Maurice standing there anxiously. "Is she all right?" He asked, worried for his daughter.

Rumplestiltskin offered his a reassuring smile. "The dress is too big for her. She needs me to fix it," He explained.

Maurice let out a relieved laugh. "That's all!" He exclaimed, "Oh, thank the gods it wasn't anything serious!"

"With your permission, may I gather my things and mend it for her?"

Maurice nodded. "If it will make her feel better, then by all means," he said, waving his hand in dismissal.

Rumplestiltskin left and rushed back to his home to gather his sewing kit. He was relieved that Belle's emergency was something so easily fixable. There was no doubt she was anxious about their upcoming nuptials. He was anxious himself.

Rumplestiltskin walked into his home, taking a deep breath as he did. This time tomorrow he would be preparing for his wedding. In a little over a day he would be escorting his bride over the threshold. A shiver of excitement rushed through him, and he hurried to gather his things. The sooner he got back to Belle, the sooner he could repair her dress. And the sooner they would be wed. He grabbed his kit, as well as some extra items just in case. He knew he would not need everything, but he felt it best to be over prepared.

When he reached Belle's home he entered without knocking. Maurice looked up from his work and greeted him with a nod. Rumple nodded in return and said simply, "This may take a while."

Maurice nodded once more and replied, "Make my daughter happy. And if that takes all night, so be it."

Rumplestiltskin turned and slipped into the small room where Belle waited, clutching the dress to her, tugging at it and maneuvering the fabric in frustration. Rumplestiltskin offered her a small smile and her face brightened in relief. He deposited his belongings on the table and picked up one of the many candles scattered throughout the room. He approached Belle and said, "Let go of the dress. Place your arms at your sides."

She gave him a quizzical look and he explained, "I have to see how it sits on you."

Nodding, she let go of the fabric and dropped her arms to the side. The sleeves of the dress were large, puffy things that sat oddly on her shoulders. The bodice of the dress hung loosely on her chest, and it was clear that Belle's mother had been much fuller than Belle was.

Humming to himself, Rumple stuck some pins in his mouth and twirled his finger in a circular motion, instructing her to turn. She did, and he observed the back. The train was a fine length, and the hem of the dress sat barely an inch from the ground. He would not have to hem the dress, for which he was grateful. He stepped forward, tugging and pulling at the dress, doing his best to be gentle, and inserted pins in the places he needed to bring in. It took him over half an hour to get the dress pinned the way he needed it, and he stepped around to let Belle untie the laces.

Keeping his back turned, and shutting his eyes for good measure, he instructed her to slip out of the dress. He could hear the rustling of fabric and the occasional soft 'ouch!" as Belle got her fingers caught on the pins. Finally, she cleared her throat and he turned slowly, blinking in surprise to see her in her shift and a dressing gown. His shock must have been obvious because she blushed and shrugged, "This is the easiest thing to change in and out of. And besides, this shall be normal after tomorrow."

His cheeks burned, and he nodded. She was right. After tomorrow seeing her in a nightgown would not be such a scandalous thing. Rumplestiltskin only hoped her father would not enter the room and object. Trying to keep his thoughts away from that and from the delight he felt at seeing Belle in such a state, he busied himself with the dress, laying out on the table and straightening it out. He dug through his kit and pulled out some sheers and a needle and thread. Belle moved closer to observe, bringing a couple candles with her to give him more light to see by.

Rumple settled down to work, and Belle sat across from him, watching with intent interest. He worked for a long while as Belle watched on in silence. Several hours passed, and Rumplestiltskin sighed. Sewing, especially altering was a slow process and it seemed to Rumple he would never finish. As he worked, Belle sat devotedly across from him, watching every flick of his wrist and twist of the needle. Eventually she began to ask questions about his work and he took delight in answering her curiosity. At length she grew quiet and they relaxed into a companionable silence.

The hour grew late, and Rumple blinked then rubbed at his eyes wearily. He refused to stop, afraid he would fall asleep if he allowed his hands to stop moving. At length his hand began to cramp and he was forced to stop. He stretched his hand out, shaking it as well in order to relieve the pain. Belle reached out and took his hand in hers, lightly massaging it. Rumplestiltskin sighed in relief as he watched her fingers move over his skin and she flushed when their eyes met. After a few minutes he gently removed his hand from hers and with a soft 'thank you' he picked up the needle and returned to his work.

"I wanted to be pretty for you," she said suddenly, breaking the long, peaceful silence that had fallen between them. "I know it's foolish; but I just wanted you to think I was pretty."

Rumplestiltskin dropped the needle he was holding and reached out for her hand. "You are more than pretty," he declared. He rose and sank to his knees before her. "You are perfection, Belle. You are lovey, and kind, and generous." He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to them. "You're beautiful." She smiled at him, tears filling her eyes once more. Wiping at them with his fingers, he gently brought her face down to press a delicate kiss to her lips. "And you will be absolutely divine tomorrow."

"Because of you," she said with a slight giggle, "You'll be the reason I'm pretty."

Rumple shook his head. "You need no help from me," he assured her earnestly, "Believe me, Belle. That dress is nothing but satin and lace without you."

She smiled affectionately. "I suppose I'm just being silly. I just got caught up in all the nonsense of it all. It's my wedding day, and I suppose that for just one day, I wanted to be pretty."

He shook his head. "It's your wedding. You should be allowed to fret over those things if you wish."

"Thank you," she said, running her hand through his hair. He smiled at her and stood, her fingers slipping from his cheeks. As much as he would prefer to spend the evening comforting and assuring her, he had a wedding dress to finish, and it was going to take him most of the night to get it done. It wasn't how he'd imagined spending his night of bachelorhood, but he would not have had it any other way.

He sat back down and picked up the needle. He glanced at it then paused, glancing up to give Belle a humored look. "But starting next week, I'm teaching you how to sew. I'll not have you breaking down every time something doesn't fit quite right." He winked at her and she stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

"If you're willing to teach me, then I'm willing to learn."

"Stick with me, and you'll become the greatest seamstress in the land."

Belle laughed, "I'll be unstoppable!" She declared with a laugh, "There would be nothing I can't do!"

They laughed together. Rumplestiltskin was glad to see the joy and humor return to her demeanor. He hated to see her upset, and he was pleased to know that his teasing had lightened her spirits some. It felt good to laugh and tease with her, and he looked forward to a lifetime of nights just like this. They fell back into another easy silence and he picked up his needle to continue working. As the night progressed he continued working. He sewed until his hands went numb, and then he continued to sew. Finally, as the night began to melt into early morning he finished. He laid the dress down and flexed his stiff hands, grimacing at the pain. He looked over to see Belle, who had long since moved to stretch out on her bed next to him, sound asleep. He rose, stretching his back and walked over to where she lay, head drooped to the side. He knelt down next to her and gently shook her shoulder.

"Belle," he whispered.

She stirred and opened her eyes. When she noticed him, she smiled sleepily, humming in contentment. "Hey," she mumbled sleepily.

"Hey," he answered softly. "It's finished, sweetheart."

That seemed to gain her attention. She sat up, blinking away the fuzziness from sleep. He helped her stand, frowning when she groaned in pain. He should have seen to her comfort. It would not do for her to be in pain on her wedding day. He froze as the realization dawned on him. It was their wedding day.

She glanced over to the window and wrinkled her brow in slight confusion, interrupting his thoughts. "It's morning," she stated plainly, turning back to look at him.

He nodded. "It is. Come on, let's have you try it on," he said. She agreed and he turned around, shutting his eyes once more as she slipped out of her nightgown and pulled on the wedding dress. He waited for her to give him a signal that it was all right to look, and after a few minutes she did so. He turned to see her standing before him, and if the sight of her in a dress that did not fit her at all had left him stunned, then the sight of her in the gown as it was meant to look was enough to leave him breathless. He'd cut and sewed and hemmed and altered, and all his work had paid off dearly.

The dress fit in all the right places, no longer sagging and swallowing her, but framed her form. It was fitted, but not too tight, the satin cinching at the waist just enough to make her look even thinner than she already was. The skirt flowed down her legs, and the train flowed out behind her. He'd removed the hideous puffs of material at her shoulders, cutting them off completely and using some of the lace he'd salvaged from other parts of the dress to make small sleeves that stopped just a few inches past her shoulders. She looked radiant, and he wished he could freeze time in that moment so he could forever gaze upon her beauty. No matter what happened, he would remember her like this, angelic and beautiful and glowing - and all for him.

"What do you think?" She asked, twirling around in a circle so that he could admire her from all angles.

"I am the luckiest man alive," he declared breathlessly, causing Belle to giggle.

"I meant about the dress."

"I'm the luckiest man alive," he repeated and Belle blushed.

"You approve, then?"

He swallowed heavily. "Very much."

She grinned. "Good. Now go away."

He tried to hide his hurt but Belle did not seem to notice, continuing, "You need to get some rest and I need to get ready for this evening," she said with a smile. "I know you're worried about seeing me before the wedding so maybe if you go before the sun completely rises, we'll still maintain some good luck."

She was teasing him. He sighed and felt the slight hurt melt away into giddy anticipation. He agreed to go, but not before stealing one last kiss from his soon-to-be-wife. She giggled and shooed him away after making him swear to meet her and her father at the temple at sunset.

"Nothing could keep me away," he promised, and with one final glance at her, he gathered his materials and slipped out into the dawn. The next time he saw her, she would become his wife, and their life could truly begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. Nothing bad is going to happen. Yet. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> Chapter 9 will be up Friday, December 13!
> 
> Please see Chapters 1 and/or 2 for the full disclaimer.


	9. Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Welcome home, sweetheart," he whispered as he nuzzled against her, breathing in the scent of fresh flowers that were still wound in her hair.

Chapter 9: Whole

Rumplestiltskin was exhausted. He entered his home and collapsed on his bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep for a few hours. He lay there for a moment, feet dangling off the edge and took a deep breath. He didn't have time to sleep. There was too much to be done to prepare for tonight. He needed to fetch some water, bathe himself, and clean his clothes.

Resigning himself to a day of working through his exhaustion, Rumplestiltskin got to work. He gathered his buckets and rushed down to the river where he collected water. He trudged slowly back, the heavy load weighing him down slightly. When he returned he poured some water into his kettle to boil for his bath. Then he stripped down and dunked his clothes in the other bucket. He took a small bar of lye soap that he'd saved up for and began to scrub his clothing, wanting to be as clean as possible. He laid them next to the fire to dry and picked up the kettle, pouring the hot water into a basin. He flipped his head over and began using the soap on his hair, taking more water to pour over himself to rinse out the suds. He shook his hair out like a dog, droplets flying everywhere. Next he washed himself, scrubbing away all the grime and dirt. The smell of the soap was a pleasant contrast to how he usually smelled. He refused to smell like a sheep on his wedding day.

Once he was finished, he wrapped himself up in a blanket to keep warm and waited for his clothing to dry. He had little else he needed to do and so he slouched down in his chair to wait. Part of him desired to read, his fingers itching to hold a book, but he had none here. Belle would be bringing her books with her, which pleased him greatly. He fell into a light sleep, his nerves and excitement were too much to allow him to truly rest. He blew air out from between his cheeks and swayed his head from side to side, allowing the hard back of the chair to press against the nape of his neck as he moved. It was relaxing in its own way, and he stared up at the ceiling, murmuring old folk songs as he waited with the greatest impatience for the time to pass.

As he sat he began to let his mind wander. He wondered what Belle was doing at this moment. Perhaps she was picking flowers for her bouquet or fixing her hair. She could be bathing, a thought that delighted him but was quickly pushed away. Perhaps she was instead consoling her father. He loved his daughter dearly, and it would be hard to see her move from his house to her husband's. They did not live far away from each other, and he would have to suggest that Belle visit her father as often as she wished. It was only fair.

Rumplestiltskin glanced out the window to gauge the position of the sun. It was midday now, which meant he only had a few hours left before he would need to make his way to the chapel. They were not making their wedding a secret; their love was not something to be hidden. No doubt people would watch curiously as Belle made her way on her father's arm to the chapel. They would feel slighted at not being invited in. There would be a thousand rumors spread throughout the village by the next morning, and none of them would be pleasant. If their relationship had not been so scandalous for some by now, by tomorrow the entire village would be scandalized by their actions.

Shrugging half-heartedly, Rumple rose and checked his clothing. They were mostly dry. He turned with just his blanket covering him and walked to his cupboard and pulled out a loaf of bread. He cut a small slice and nibbled on his as he stared at the hearth. As he chewed he thought of all the things he wished he could give Belle. He had no wedding finery; he had no grand home to offer her. He had no money or jewels or anything of value that was worthy of her. He finished the piece of bread and cut off another small slice. He held up the hard crust of bread and inspected it carefully. He'd never had much more than this. But he would ensure that Belle did. He would give her everything she desired and more. He did not know how, but he would make sure she never wanted for anything. She was giving herself to him. The least he could do was ensure she did not come to regret that decision.

He was growing impatient, ready for the day to pass. He felt as if the fates were mocking him; causing the day to drag on unnaturally slow while he waited and pined for the time when he could finally do the one thing in his life that left him feeling eager and happy. He never thought he'd amount to much, nor have anything worth being excited about, but now he had Belle and there was no doubt in his mind that she was his everything. So long as he had her, he didn't care about what else happened.

~000~

The sun began to sink, and it was time for Rumplestiltskin to leave. He dressed quickly and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to make himself look presentable. He pulled on his shoes and his cloak and slipped out of his home, eager to return with his bride next to him. He walked through the village with a spring in his step. He was ablaze with excitement, and he grinned and nodded at people as he passed, ignoring their looks of disdain and confusion. He began to whistle as he walked, the song a happy ballad. He had not been this happy in ages. It was true his life of late had been much improved, but this was the culmination of everything: tonight he would be a husband. Tonight he would start his life with the woman he loved, and their future was stretched out before them.

He arrived at the chapel first. Unsure of what to do now, he stood outside for a while, pacing back and forth nervously as he waited for Belle to arrive. He began to sweat, so he moved inside to look for a place to sit so that he might calm himself. He was jittery with nerves. He glanced around the temple in awe. He had not been inside in many years and had all but forgotten what it was like. It was a place of worship for the old religions, whose gods were fierce and powerful beings who controlled all aspects of life. Many people prayed to the gods still, but time had given way to stronger belief in the magic that was more attainable, through sorcerers, fairies, and other magical creatures. The gods were ancient and outdated. Only the rise of the ogres had caused people to turn to their old ways again, praying for a miracle when fairies and magicians could not deliver.

The building, despite its age, was still as he remembered it. The ceiling rose high, with numerous low hanging fixtures that were lit with numerous candles. There were pews lined up on one side of the main room with an altar at the front. A fire was lit there to warm the cold, who often left small tokens such as flowers, coins, or other items for the gods they did not completely believe in. There were a few people inside, kneeling at a seat or at the fire with their hands clasped, their murmured whispers echoing eerily throughout the building. Rumplestiltskin walked further inside, unsure of what to do.

He did not have to worry long, for a small man in long robes appeared out of nowhere and asked, "Can I help you?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "I-I'm getting married today."

The smaller man nodded. "Ah yes. You're the spinner. Marrying Maurice's daughter, yes?" Rumplestiltskin nodded, and the cleric gestured behind him. "I have reserved a small room for the ceremony. You may wait inside, if you wish. I will alert you when your bride arrives."

Rumplestiltskin thanked the man and moved to the small room. It was a smaller chapel, used for gatherings such as this. It was private, and no doubt cost much less to rent than the rest of the chapel had they had a proper wedding. Rumple sat on the small bench with his hands clasped to his knees. He bounced his legs nervously, looking around to take in the slight furnishings of the room. He waited with quiet impatience, glancing at the door every time he heard the slightest sound, hoping it would be Belle. Each time he was disappointed, and he leaned forward and rested his head against his knees and let out a long breath.

He looked up when there was a knock on the door, and he stood abruptly, his eyes wide in anticipation. He frowned with the same cleric appeared. The man entered the room, then stepped aside, holding the door open for someone else. Rumple licked his lips nervously. Maurice stepped inside first, then turned and extended his hand, escorting Belle inside.

She was clad in her now-fitted wedding dress, but the sight of her here, with a bundle of flowers in her hand and even more braided into her hair was enough to cause a few tears to slip down Rumplestiltskin's cheek. His bride was here. She met his gaze and smiled happily, her own eyes shining with unshed tears as she looked excitedly upon her husband. Her face was obscured by her veil, but he could see the outline of her smile. She stepped past her father and reached out with her free hand to him. Rumple wiped his hands on his pants quickly to dry them where they had become damp from his nervousness, and took her hand in between his. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "Perfect," he whispered in awe, "You're perfect." Her cheeks flushed, and he felt a small satisfaction that his words created this reaction. He interlaced their fingers together. "Shall we?"

Belle flashed him a darling grin. "Yes."

They walked down the aisle together, Belle's arm wrapped tightly around his. It all seemed unreal to him, knowing that in a few moments Belle would be his. They stood together and Maurice followed behind to stand at his daughter's side. The cleric moved around them and stepped onto the small platform before them and began to speak. He spoke briefly on the importance of marriage and the significance of the vows that were about to be taken. While he spoke, Belle held tightly onto Rumplestiltskin's arm, her eagerness palpable. Rumple was so focused on having Belle beside him, he hardly registered the man's words.

Finally, he instructed Rumple to repeat after him. Rumple turned to face Belle, smiling joyfully at her, and vowed to love, honor, protect, and provide for his wife as long as he lived. Belle was instructed to repeat her vows as well. She spoke in a steady voice, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she promised herself to the man she loved. They had no rings to exchange, a novelty only the rich indulged in.

"You may kiss your bride," the man instructed and Rumplestiltskin wasted no time throwing her veil away from her face and pulling her lips to his. He could have remained in that manner for an eternity, but her father was still standing next to her, and he moved away reluctantly, knowing that there would be time to treasure her properly later.

They were moved to an adjoining room where they signed a contract that legally bound them together. Her father and the cleric served as the witnesses to the event and signed their names to it as well. The contract detailed the terms of the marriage, stating what Rumplestiltskin would receive by way of dowry. He was pleased that he could not only sign his name with a decent stroke of his hand, but he was also pleased he could actually read and understand all the contract said. His new skill was proving to be quite beneficial and he would have to thank his wife for her efforts later. And then he paused. His wife. He was a married man, with a wife who loved him. He laughed, causing Belle to look up curiously as she signed her own name. When she saw the joy on his face, she offered him a similar look. "I'm happy, too," she said softly, and Rumplestilskin took advantage of their new status to pull her closer and kiss her without shame.

With the ceremony complete and the document signed, the newlyweds and Maurice made their way back to his home to celebrate. People were standing outside their homes, watching as the party passed, looking on with shock and curiosity. Belle and Rumplestiltskin ignored the looks of those who watched on, having eyes only for each other. Belle laced her fingers with Rumple's walking happily beside him. He pressed a kiss to her temple and they spoke softly together of their happiness. Rumplestiltskin watched Belle as they walked, unable to take his eyes off her. She had his undivided attention since the moment she'd entered the chapel, and nothing could cause him to look away.

They reached Maurice's home and he ushered them inside where a small cake and some sweet wine was waiting for them. Belle laughed and clapped her hands in delight, letting go of Rumplestltskin's hand long enough to embrace her father and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Papa!" She exclaimed happily before letting go and fetching three small plates. Maurice poured the wine and Rumplestiltskin decided to make himself useful by fetching a knife and cutting the cake. He cut three modest pieces and slid a plate over to his father-in-law, before handing Belle her own. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. They talked for some time, laughing and enjoying the evening before finally Maurice stood and held his hands out to his daughter. She took them, and he offered her a teary smile. "It's time, my dear," he said. "I have to let you go."

She laughed gently. "Papa, I'm not that far away. I'll come visit often. I promise."

"I know, my girl," he said, wiping at his eyes. "But I've had you all to myself all these years, and now you're leaving me. It's not going to be the same without you here." Belle felt herself tearing up, but she blinked them away, not wanting to end her day on a sad note. "I know, Papa. But things won't be that different, you'll see. I'm not far away."

He nodded, laughing through his tears at his foolishness and let her go. She slipped into her room to fetch her bag that she would need that night. Her father would deliver the rest of her belongings later the next day. Maurice stepped forward and shook Rumplestiltskin's hand, grasping it firmly. "Take care of my girl," he said.

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "I will."

Belle stepped out a moment later carrying the bag. Rumplestiltskin took it from her and with one last teary hug from her father, they left and made their way to their home.

~000~

When they reached the house, Rumplestiltskin placed Belle's bag on the ground and glanced at her with a wicked grin. Before she could react, he moved, sweeping her up in his arms. She laughed out loud, clutching Rumple close as he stepped over the threshold of their home. Rumple kept his grip on her and spun around with her, finding delight in her squeal of surprise. He came to a stop and let her slip from his arms. Once she was on the ground he pulled her into his arms and pressed his face to her hair.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," he whispered as he nuzzled against her, breathing in the scent of fresh flowers that were still wound in her hair. She hummed in delight and settled contentedly against him.

"There is nowhere else I'd rather be," she breathed. Rumplestiltskin would have kissed her had he not remembered that her bag was still outside. He slid his arms from her, and after letting his fingers run through the soft material of the dress, he rushed outside. He returned inside quickly, kicking the door shut with his foot before turning to close the latch. He wanted no interruptions from the outside world tonight. He wanted tonight to be all about them.

Rumplestiltksin placed the bag on a small stool near the door and marched over to his bride, his desire evident in the look he gave her. Belle, for her part, did not appear afraid. She blinked up at him nervously, but that only reassured him. He was nervous too. He stopped before her and waited, taking comfort when she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders. She lifted her lips to meet his for a gentle kiss, and he obliged her happily. He did not want to assume she desired this, certainly not as much as he, but when she sighed and pulled him closer, he could not help the shudder of pleasure that shot through him. He lifted his hand to her face, stroking her cheek lightly with his fingers. As much as he wanted this, he had no desire to hurry. He wanted to savor this night with Belle. He wanted the image of her in his arms burned into his memory forever, and he wanted to ensure that he left her satisfied yet desperately wanting more.

He kissed her languidly, savoring the feel of her lips against his. He sighed against her lips and moved, pressing soft kisses over her jaw and down toward her neck. The top of her dress rested high on her chest, and he reached the limit of her exposed skin much faster than he wanted. He reminded himself not to rush but instead moved his lips back up the path he'd traveled and covered her mouth with his again. He pulled away slightly and looked down at her with wide eyes. She was the embodiment of desire and he cupped her face in his hands and sighed. "Belle," he breathed as she glanced up at him lovingly.

"Husband," she replied coyly, and he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

"Yes," he whispered in amazement, "And you are my wife. Finally."

She leaned forward and kissed him again, giggling when he clutched her tightly to him. He broke away after a moment, his breathing labored, and sighed her name once more. She nodded and stepped forward, using her hand on his chest to push him backwards.

"Yes," she whispered, "Yes, Rumplestiltskin."

He took a moment to look at her eyes and she offered him a comforting smile. "Shall we…retire?" She asked, and he swallowed thickly. Nodding, he clasped her hands in his and took another step closer to his bed. He paused and turned to look at her again.

"Belle," he said slowly, "Y-you do know what to expect tonight….right?"

His worry turned to embarrassment when Belle rolled her eyes and gave him a dry look. "I'm not a silly girl, Rumple," she said matter of fact, "I know perfectly well what is expected of a wife on her wedding night." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered him a sheepish grin, "Though I'm afraid knowing and doing are two very different things."

It was with a sense of relief that Rumplestiltksin laughed and gathered his wife into his arms. He had no idea how it would be either, but he was certain that they would learn. Belle was a dedicated student and he wished selfishly that she would devote many nights to learning with him.

"I'm afraid it won't be very good," he admitted shamefully, "I've never…done this…"

Belle giggled. "Well, then we can figure it out together," she said with an assuring smile. "As with all things, we will figure it out together." She turned her back to him and pushed her hair to one side. Glancing at her husband over her shoulder, she smirked slightly, "Will you unlace me?"

She was as straightforward as ever, for which Rumplestiltskin was glad. Other than her slight nerves, she seemed to be handling this with all the confidence and grace that she always did. Rumple stepped forward, reached out eagerly, and wrapped his fingers around the laces that held the dress together. He untied them deftly, slipping the laces through the eyelets and soon the dress opened to reveal her thin shift. He held the fabric in his hands and began to push it downward, over her hips. It slid to the floor with ease after that and Belle reached down to tug the shift off her, tossing it to the side haphazardly. Her back was now fully exposed to his gaze and he held his breath as he touched her, half afraid he would wake up and this would be a dream. Belle shivered in delight when his fingers brushed over her skin, and he stepped closer, leaning down to press a feather light kiss against the crook of her neck. She shivered again. "Rumple," she gasped, and he only hummed in response as he continued to press kisses over the expanse of her exposed skin.

She turned in his arms, smiling up at him as his gaze instantly lowered. She allowed him to look freely upon her and she felt no shame when she saw his eyes grow dark. His eyes traveled up and down her body and soon after his hands followed, ghosting over her neck, shoulders, breasts, and waist. He groaned at the feeling of her flesh under his hands and let them travel back up her sides.

He was brought out of his distraction when he felt his shirt being pulled on. He blinked and looked at Belle curiously. "It's hardly fair that you get to look upon me while you are still fully clothed," she chided playfully. With a swift movement, he yanked his shirt off and let it fall at his feet. He began to unlace his pants, offering her apologizes for making her uncomfortable. She reached up and pressed a finger to his lips. "I'm not uncomfortable," she informed him, "I just want the same joy of looking upon my husband for the first time."

"I'm afraid there's not much to look at," he said with shame. Belle reached up and ran her hands over his bare chest. He was underweight and his skin stretched slightly over the bone. He had hardly any hair on his chest, and it had never occurred to him until that moment whether Belle would like him smooth or hairy. He had little control over the matter so he hoped she was pleased.

"I'm quite pleased so far," she said, lightly smacking his torso. "Now get undressed and join me in bed." Her cheeks darkened at her words, and she moved around him, walking over to the bed with more confidence and assurance than he could have imagined and made herself comfortable under the blanket. She sat, uncovered from the waist up and began to pull out the flowers from her hair. Rumplestiltksin stood mesmerized for a moment before hurrying to undress so that he could join his bride in their bed.

He joined her after a few moments. He noticed her face was still flushed and it was now painfully obvious that she was trying her best not to stare at him in his current state. He was afraid she would admit she found him unsatisfactory so he opted to make no comment on the matter. Instead, he busied himself with assisting her in removing the flowers from her hair. Once all the flowers were out, he contented himself with running his hands through her hair, watching in fascination as the curls stretched the snapped back to rest against her shoulders and back. "You are so lovely," he declared softly leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. She turned her head and captured his lips with hers in response, turning so that she faced him more directly.

They remained that way for some time, kissing gently. Rumple wrapped his arm around Belle's waist and pulled her closer, lying back so that she lay half on top of him as they kissed. His other hand traveled, caressing as much skin as he could, lingering for some time when his fingertips grazed her breast, which caused them both to gasp in pleasure. It thrilled Rumplestiltskin to know that he had made her feel good, and he continued in his exploration, determined to make her sigh and gasp and moan many more times that night.

She began to touch him as well, her hand hesitantly starting at his shoulder before traveling slowly downward, not so much trying to please him but simply become used to the bare man before her. It was pleasant regardless of her intent, and he whispered to her how much he enjoyed her touching him. Encouraged by his praise, her hand traveled lower, but Rumplestiltskin was quick and grabbed her hand with his, pinning it above her head as he flipped her over to hover over her. She blinked up at him with wide eyes, her chest heaving in time with his, and he bent down to kiss her hard.

"Are you ready?" He asked her at length, eager to be with his wife. She leaned up and kissed him in response, slipping her hand out from his grasp to travel back to where she'd been aiming for earlier. His eyes shot open at her touch and he growled her name as he pulled her closer to him.

"Are _you_?" She asked, teasing him with her voice and her hand. He chuckled darkly and kissed her once more.

"Very much so."

They moved together, seeking a pleasure they had not yet felt, but desperately longed for. At length they found it, and when it was done they fell, spent, against the sheets, both feeling more whole than they'd ever felt before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments! I appreciate it so much. 
> 
> Chapter 10 will be up Dec. 20. 
> 
>  
> 
> _See chapters 1 and/or 2 for the full disclaimer._


	10. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her father tried to hide the truth, but she was aware nonetheless. And yet it did not bother her. Let them wallow in their petty jealousy and callousness. She was in love and she was happy.

Chapter 10: Happy

Rumplestiltskin woke groggily as the bright rays of sun shone in through the small window above him. He kept his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to drift back to sleep and enjoy the pleasant dreams that awaited him there. He was almost asleep again when he felt something stir beside him. He cracked one eyelid open to see Belle lying next to him, her eyes open and bright. She smiled when she realized he was awake and leaned up to kiss him quickly. Rumple moved his arm and wound it around her shoulders, pulling her to closer to him as she settled contentedly against him and he smiled down at her.

"So it wasn't a dream," he mused aloud, causing her to giggle.

"No," she said, "It was definitely not a dream."

He sighed happily. This was perfection, he thought idly to himself as he began to stroke Belle's hair, which lay in tangled curls around her shoulders. He had no desire to move, and a happy laziness settled over him as he relished lying in bed with his wife. She seemed just as pleased and moved to tuck her head in the junction where Rumple's neck and shoulder met. Her arm slid over his chest, and she squeezed him tightly. Closing her eyes, she whispered sleepily, "Let's just stay here all day."

"The wool won't spin itself," he informed her, though he had no intention of moving. She squeezed him again and shook her head, her hair tickling his cheek.

"I'm not worried about the wool," she grumbled, "It's the morning after our wedding. We should take the day off."

"I suppose I can be lazy for one day," he agreed after a moment. She lifted her head long enough to press a kiss to his lips, before snuggling into him again.

"Good."

They remained in bed for a long time, relaxing together quietly. After a while they began to talk softly about the day before and about the excitement of their future; which eventually led to gentle, languid kisses and tender caresses. It was a pleasure in itself to know they had this freedom. They were wed, and nothing anyone said could prevent them from bestowing affection upon each other.

Rumple's hands began to roam and, encouraged by Belle's sighs, he moved so that he hovered above her. He leaned down to kiss her once more, but her hand on his chest stopped him. She was blushing furiously, her cheeks a deep red and she did not meet his eyes.

"I-I'm…sore…"

She was embarrassed and Rumple immediately rolled away. He pulled her close to hold her and whispered apologizes into her ear.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she whispered.

"Nonsense," Rumple chided, propping himself up on his elbow so that he could look down at her, "I'm the one who should be sorry."

She smiled sheepishly at him and leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. "It's no matter."

Rumple's stomach grumbled, causing Belle to giggle. She pushed the sheet back and sat up, only stopping when Rumple grabbed at her.

"Where are you going?" He asked worriedly.

Belle smacked at his hands and stood, "To prepare us some breakfast," she informed him as she bent down to pull her nightgown from her bag, "It seems we worked up an appitite-"

She stopped and Rumple glanced at her with concern before following her gaze down to the sheets. There were spots of blood where she had laid the night before. He glanced back up at Belle, who quickly pulled on her nightgown, her cheeks once again flushed.

"I'm sorry," she whispred as she jerked the cover back over to hide the offending stain, "I'll wash them after we eat." She turned away but Rumple was quick and met her.

"I'm not worried about the sheets," he said dismissively, pulling her into a hug, "I'm worried about you. Are you all right? Did I hurt you greatly?"

She leaned her head against his chest, "It's not as bad as I thought it might be. More embarrassing than anything, really."

Rumple rubbed her back soothingly and pressed a kiss to her temple. Belle sighed once more then pulled away, smiling at him brightly. "But I should get started on breakfast." She turned and maneuvered to the kitchen, and Rumplestiltskin followed, amazed at how cheerful she could be no matter the situation. She pulled out a small loaf of bread and began to slice it. It occurred to Rumple that he'd never shown her where everything was, but that didn't seem to affect her. Belle bustled around the small kitchen humming softly to herself as if this were not a new occurrence for them both. She'd situated herself into his life and his home seamlessly, and Rumple watched her work, certain that he was the luckiest man alive.

She placed a plate of bread and cheese on the table and looked up, blinking in surprise when she noticed Rumple staring at her. Her eyes flickered back and forth, and she frowned. "What?"

He shook his head and stepped toward her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled affectionately, "Nothing. I just can't believe you're my wife."

She smiled and rested her hands on his chest, "Well I am. And you're my husband." She leaned over and picked up a slice of bread and stuffed it in his mouth, "Now eat," she giggled as she slipped out of his embrace and grabbed a piece of bread for herself.

"Yes, ma'am."

She made a face at him and smacked at his arm lightly. He caught her hand and pulled her to him once more for another kiss. She complied happily and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as they kissed deeply.

Breakfast was soon forgotten.

~000~

Once Belle finally managed to get Rumple to eat, she dressed and pulled the sheet off the bed so that she could wash it. Rumple had saved some water from when he'd bathed the day before, so Belle dipped the sheet in the bucket and grabbed the lye soap that was left and began to scrub. She scrubbed for a long time, sighing in relief when the material finally came clean. She took it outside and hung it on the line to dry, glad to have the embarrassing task over with.

She entered the house to see Rumple lounging by the small fire he'd made. They'd agreed not to work today, but Belle wasn't sure what they would do. It was still mid-morning, and she was at a loss for how they would spend their time if not working.

She joined Rumple by the fire and curled into his embrace. He kissed her again, something she would never tire of. They sat in silence for a while, watching the crackling of the fire. Rumple glanced down at Belle and smiled. "I believe I owe you your dress," he whispered, and she glanced up excitedly to face him, her eyes sparkling.

"Ifinally get it?" She exclaimed happily, and Rumplestiltskin laughed in amusement.

"I'd say now is as good a time as any," he said as he stood and led her over to his spinning wheel, where all his tools lay. He pulled out the dress and instructed her to put it on. She stepped into it and looked down in amusement. One side was sewn, but the other hung open, leaving her shift exposed. It sat oddly on her frame and she thought back to the day before when she'd stood in her wedding dress, frantic and crying because it did not fit. Rumple had worked a miracle when he'd altered her dress; now he was making her a new one. Rumple was a master of fabric and needle and thread, and it seemed there was nothing he could not do.

He began to work, sticking the threaded needle between his teeth as he began to pull on the unsewn side of the dress. He cut and sewed and pulled at the fabric as Belle watched in fascination. He chided her frequently, telling her to stand up straight and look ahead; he needed her to remain still so the dress did not end up uneven. But she was curious about his work so she found herself shifting subtly, hoping to watch him for a while.

Finally, he looked at her firmly and said, "I'll have to tie you up if you don't stop moving." He winked at her, and she giggled, moving to stand straight again.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a chuckle.

"It's all right my dear. But I'm almost done so you won't have to- Ow!"

He jerked his hands away from her dress, the needle falling away to the floor. He lifted his finger to see a that small droplet of blood had formed. He grimaced, and stuck his finger into his mouth in an effort to relieve some of the pain. Belle moved forward, careful of the abandoned needle somewhere at her feet and gently tugged his finger out of his mouth. She glanced down at it, and ran her hand gently over the spot that was still bleeding slightly.

"Are you all right?"

He used his thumb to wipe at the small droplet, smearing the blood instead of wiping it up and laid his free hand on top of their joined ones. "I'm fine," he laughed, "This isn't the first time I've stuck myself. Still stings, though."

She giggled. "I'm sure."

He wiped at the blood again, then grabbed a handkerchief to dab at the spot. He put pressure on his finger for a moment, then checked it again. The bleeding seemed to stop as quickly as it started. He tucked the handkerchief away and raised his eyebrows at Belle.

"At least I didn't get any blood on your dress."

She chuckled and allowed Rumple to move her back to the position he needed her in. He glanced at his finger to make sure the blood was gone. When he saw no evidence of blood he knelt down and found the needle. He picked it back up, staying on his knees so that he could sew up the lower side of the dress. Belle stayed perfectly still, much to his amusement and relief. Before long he was sliding the leather laces through the small eyelets up the front of the bodice, tying the ends into a small bow and stepping away dramatically.

"There! As beautiful as I imagined."

Belle looked down at herself to admire his work. She smiled and spun, turning her head to try to see as much of the dress as she could. It was a lovely shade of blue; the hem stopping at her ankles. The bodice was modest but sensible for her to work in without getting too hot. The fabric was light and cool and well fitted at the top. She moved her arms in experimentation, pleased to see that she could do so without any trouble. It was a beautiful dress, pretty and practical, and she spun around again, grinning as the skirt billowed out. She stopped spinning and turned to wrap her arms around her husband in thanks.

"You are wonderful," she declared, planting a happy kiss on his cheek. He smiled as she stepped away to spin once more. She lost her footing and tripped, laughing as her husband stepped forward to steady her.

"And you're clumsy," he teased, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He reached out quickly to playfully grab at it, but she giggled and turned away, glancing back at him coyly over her shoulder. "Be nice," he warned, "Or I'll make you mend it if you rip it."

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, both of them in good spirits. "Perhaps it would be best if I learned anyway," she mused with a shrug. "You've sewn me into two dresses in two days, and I want to be useful. Teach me how to sew and mend, and I'll happily do it."

He nodded. "I think that would be best," he agreed. "But that can wait until later. Now that I've gotten you properly into that dress," he took a sly step toward her, "I'd like to get you out of it."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him and pressing up against him. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

~000~

Over the next few days, Rumplestiltskin and Belle began settling into their new routines. They would wake and spend time together in bed. When they finally left the comfort and warmth of their bed, and each other's arms, Rumple would spin or travel to the market to sell wool while Belle prepared a small breakfast. After they ate they would go about their day cleaning and working, with frequent breaks throughout to tease and kiss each other. At night they would sit by the fire and read together. It was a simple routine, but a pleasant one, and it filled them both with contentment.

Belle also visited her father in order to ensure that he was doing fine without her. She told him of her days with Rumple, and how much she enjoyed being a wife. Her father was pleased to see her so happy and in an effort to keep her smile bright, he said nothing of the harsh words that were said about her in the village. People were offended at being slighted, and even worse, they were horrified that Rumplestiltskin had managed to land the prettiest, if not strangest, girl in the village. Maurice hoped such talk would die down soon, so he spoke to Belle about anything else, and indulged in Belle as she fretted over him.

"I just don't like you being alone, Papa," she said on one visit. Maurice chuckled and patted her on the head like a child.

"I'm fine, my dear," he assured her, "I promise."

It was a subject she brought up frequently, and on one visit she was even so bold as to suggest that her father consider marrying again, just so he would not be alone. Maurice laughed deeply, and wiped a tear away as he explained that he'd loved all he could. He teased he was saving his heart for his grandchildren, which caused Belle to blush furiously.

"There will be grandchildren, won't there?" He asked, and Belle shrugged, not sure what to say. It was not something they had ever discussed and she wondered if a child would come soon. She and her husband had made good use of their marriage bed. It was possible she could be with child; it was not a thought that had ever crossed her mind until then. She thought of seeking out the midwife for advice but quickly pushed that thought away. They'd barely been married a fortnight now and she would not fret over the possibility of a child. If she were to bear a child, she would. It was the way things were, after all, and a small part of her did wish to bear Rumplestiltskin's child. And yet, ever practical, a large part of her hoped a child did not come. Not yet. The war with the Ogres was growing worse, and the king had already begun drafting men from the innermost villages. It would only be a matter of time before the men of this village would be called to serve now. She had not spoken about it to Rumplestiltskin, but the thought of her husband going off to war and leaving her alone with a child frightened her.

But she steeled herself and pushed those fears away. If her husband were drafted, he would have to fight, and she would not express her fears of going through a potential pregnancy alone while he faced much greater dangers. Many women had brought forth and raised children while their men fought in faraway lands. If she were dealt that same fate, she knew she would face it as best she could, and until that time came, she would enjoy her time with her husband and not let thoughts of children or wars occupy her thoughts. Instead, Belle decided to put her thoughts to good use. Curious thing that she was, she began to talk to Rumplestiltskin about spinning, and about where he got his wool. He revealed that he traveled to a nearby farm, and purchased the freshly sheared wool from a sheep farmer, but that he desired to have a sheep of his own.

"I think that would be wonderful," she declared, laying her hand gently on his thigh. "We should have enough money from my dowry to buy a sheep. That would help quite a bit."

Rumplestiltskin nodded in agreement. "I'd like to have more than one," he said. "We'll have to see what I can afford. I'll talk to Hagan soon and see if he'd be willing to sell me a lamb or two. It'll be a small start, but at least it's something."

"It is. And once I get better at sewing I can help more. You can take me on as your apprentice," she said with a wink. Rumplestiltskin laughed and squeezed her hand.

"I think that sounds like a wonderful plan."

Belle was silent for a few moments, clearly thinking, and finally she glanced back to her husband and asked, "Do you think, when we can afford it, we could perhaps get some chickens too? A couple hens to lay eggs, maybe?" It would be the start of a small farm. There would be extra chores added to their routine, but the thought was pleasant. There would be sheep to shear for wool; chickens to lay eggs for them to eat. It was an exciting thought, to suddenly have such a plan for themselves. "If my wife wants a couple hens, then she shall have hens."

Giggling, Belle wrapped her arms around his middle. "You're too good to me," she declared, "You'll spoil me before the end."

Returning her embrace, Rumplestiltskin kissed her temple and whispered into her hair, "If I could, I'd give you the world." And he vowed that someday he would.

~000~

"I'll never get this," Belle declared in defeat. She was sitting in between Rumplestiltskin's legs on the small bench, their backs to the spinning wheel, holding a tambour in one hand and a needle in the other. She growled in frustration and sat the frame in her lap with a huff.

Rumplestiltskin lifted his hands and ran them gently up and down her arms. "You'll get it, dearest," he told her. "It just takes practice. I didn't learn to read in one sitting, and you won't learn to sew in one either."

Sighing with resignation, she grumpily picked up the frame and began to try to sew the simple straight line Rumplestiltskin had instructed her to make. When she finished the line was there, but it was uneven and quite ugly. She leaned her head back to rest against his shoulder.

"I suppose I'm not meant to know how to do everything," she said with a slight chuckle. Rumplestiltskin took the frame from her hands and, after fixing the thread, he began to sew a straight line underneath the one she had attempted. It only took him a few minutes, his hands skilled with needle and thread, and when he finished, his line straight and perfect. She playfully jabbed his stomach with her elbow, laughing. "Show off."

He chuckled and deposited the frame on the floor next to his feet. Wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning so that his chin rested against her shoulder and whispered, "You'll get it. You may not make brilliant tapestries, but as long as you can make a straight line, that's all that matters. And I'll help you as much as you helped me."

He knew she was smiling though he could not see her, and she turned her head back to look at him. Lifting his head, he met her gaze and was astounded by the love he saw directed at him. She pressed a kiss to his lips and whispered, "Thank you."

He said nothing, merely pressed her against him and glanced down at the tambour on the floor. The line she had sewn was not done well, but he adored the little piece of brown string that swiveled and swerved on the cloth. It was a symbol of a pleasant evening spent together, with his love in his arms, teaching her his occupation. It was a simple moment, but he treasured it deeply. He eagerly looked forward to a lifetime of moments like this, where he held his wife close and simply enjoyed being with her.

Reaching down, he picked up the frame, caressing her line as he did so. He gently dropped it back in her lap and reached up to take the needle and carefully re-thread it. "Want to try again?"

His hands slipped down to rest on her hips, tickling her slightly and she giggled. "I'll never get it if you distract me like that," she said.

Defiantly, he continued to run his fingers over her sides. "Yes, but distractions are a part of life. You'll have to learn to tune out distractions if you want to get better." With that he pressed a kiss to her neck, causing her to sigh contentedly. He continued to kiss her, but after a few minutes she tilted her head out of reach and swatted at his hands.

"If you want me to become good at this, then you'll go away and let me practice!" She was smiling as she chided him, and after reaching forward to plant one last kiss on her cheek, he stood and slipped away from her. She gave him a humored look then picked up the frame and held it close to her face, eying it carefully as she stuck the needle in and then out, trying her best to stay steady and straight.

Rumplestiltskin picked up a bundle of spun wool to bundle together to take to market the next day. They both worked in a compainable silence until the hour grew late. Belle went to bed satisfied, finally managing to sew what looked passable as a straight line. Rumple smiled as he watched his wife celebrate her success and thanked the gods his fortune had turned.

~000~

Belle awoke in the middle of the night to the sensation of fingers trailing down her sides in a gentle caress. She did not move; the feeling was too pleasant to interrupt. She would have been content to lay there forever. Her relaxation snapped away, however when a pair of lips begin trailing a path down her arm. She shivered in delight and turned her head back toward her husband.

She smiled sleepily. "What are you doing?"

He remained quiet for a few moments, content to kiss her instead. She sighed, the feeling kindling a soft pleasure within her. She felt torn between rolling closer to him or drifting back to sleep.

"Sometimes I can't believe it."

She blinked herself awake and looked at him, making out his outline in the darkness.

"What can't you believe?"

There was another kiss. And another. "That you're here. That you're with me. My wife."

She hummed in delight and rolled into her other side to face him. Cupping his cheek in her hand she said, "Well believe it. I'm here to stay." His mouth met hers, and they lost themselves in their love for each other.

The next morning they rose, and Belle set to work on her sewing. She was determined to improve and Rumpletiltskin admired her dedication. She worked all day, her focus completely on her task and by the early evening she had improved significantly. She was brought out of her work-induced trance by Rumplestiltskin's hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Why don't you take a break?" He encouraged. "It's a beautiful evening. Perhaps we could take a walk?"

She smiled up at him and set aside her sewing. Rumplestiltskin grabbed her cloak, and Belle flushed as he wrapped it around her shoulders and secured it. They smiled affectionately at each other, and Belle offered him a kiss as thanks.

Much later they emerged from their home, Belle's cheeks flushed and lips swollen. They followed the path leading away from the market place, intent on just strolling together for a while. It was nice to get out of the house, Belle thought as they walked arm-in-arm together. It was also nice to walk with her husband, with whom she could hold onto without any shame. It was a small kind of power, to know no one could stop her from showing her husband affection, and she relished it. She knew many frowned upon their union. Her father tried to hide the truth, but she was aware nonetheless. And yet it did not bother her. Let them wallow in their petty jealousy and callousness. She was in love and she was happy.

And judging by the way Rumplestiltskin looked at her, so was he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thank you again for all your kind words! They are much appreciated.
> 
> Chapter 11 will be posted on December 27! I hope all of you have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! If you don't celebrate anything, I hope you have a wonderful week!
> 
> Please see chapters 1 and/or 2 for the disclaimer.


	11. The Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've lived under the shadow of my father's actions for too long now. He was a coward; his reputation has become mine and I've always wished to become more than what he was. I think this is what I've been waiting for."

Chapter 11: The Shadow

Rumplestiltskin woke early and slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb his wife. He was planning to travel to Hagan's farm this morning, to discuss the possibility of buying sheep and was eager to begin his trip. He dressed quickly and slipped over to the bed to kiss his wife awake. Her eyes opened softly and she gazed up at him with a sleepy smile.

"Are you off, then?" She asked, her voice muffled by a yawn. He nodded, reaching out to run his fingers against her hair. He often braided it for her before they retired to bed in an effort to keep her hair from knotting as she tossed and turned in her sleep. She moved frequently in her sleep, stirring and squirming as she dreamed, unlike Rumple, who rarely moved at all. It was amusing to wake up to discover what position she had taken during the night. Sometimes her legs would be draped over his; sometimes she would be half on top of him.

"Aye," he whispered softly. "I'm off. I should be back before the afternoon."

"I'll see you then," she said as she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to his lips. "I love you," she whispered affectionately.

The look he gave her was enough to make her wish he didn't have to leave. "And I love you."

He kissed her one last time, then slipped out the door and out into the early morning.

He traveled slowly, having no desire to rush. He missed his wife already but there was something pleasant about the silence of the journey as it gave him time to think. He was so busy now that he was wed; he had little time to simply sit and allow his thoughts to take him captive. It was nice, to travel in silence and solitude so that he could reflect upon the past two weeks of his life and wonder at just how much better they were than he'd expected them to be.

It was wonderful indeed, to be married. And though he felt selfish for entertaining the though, it was nice to know that he now had enough money to fulfill his desire to own his own sheep. He still viewed the money as entirely Belle's and even with her blessing, he felt hesitant to spend it.

"If you don't spend it," he recalled her saying, "I'll end up buying books with it. And as much as I love my books, we need a sheep more. Once we become wealthy spinners, then I'll buy all the books I want!"

She'd been teasing about the latter part. They both had no false notions that simply purchasing a sheep or two would somehow boost them into economic stability. Rumplestiltskin wished it were so, for he longed to give her all the books she desired. He would give her an entire library if he could, but he did understand that purchasing his own sheep to sheer would help them considerably. He wouldn't have to make the trip to Hagan's, but instead he could use that time to shear and spin from his own small flock. It would also mean more time with Belle, and while he enjoyed his brief solitude with only his thoughts for companions, he quickly found that he preferred Belle's company to his own.

He reached the farm and saw one of Hagan's girls working in the field closest to the path, so he stopped to greet her. The young girl looked far too small to be put to such hard labor. When she noticed him, she turned and offered a sloppy curtsey to him.

"Good morning," Rumplestiltskin said pleasantly. "Is your father about?"

The child nodded. "Papa's in the barn, sir."

He thanked the girl and turned to make his way up the path when the girl stepped forward and looked up at him with shining eyes. "Mama tells me you married Miss Belle not that long ago. Is that true?"

Rumplestiltskin smiled at the mention of his wife and nodded. "It is."

The girl smiled. "She's pretty. And very nice. She showed me how to write my name when Mama and I visited town a while back."

The girl's words warmed his heart, and he made a note to himself to tell Belle of the little girl's words. "Aye, she is lovely," he agreed. I'm a very lucky man."

"Papa says she'd have to be mad to marry you, but I think you're nice too. You never get angry like Papa does, and he gets angry a lot."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard those comments. Hagan was a good businessman, but he was known to be a poor husband and father. Rumplestiltskin patted the girl's head and knelt down beside her. "I'll see if Belle can join me the next time I come here."

That seemed to delight the little girl and she reached out to hug the spinner. He patted her on the head and told her to get back to work, lest her father get upset. She turned and skipped back to the field where she was digging holes to plant crops for the late harvest, and Rumplestiltskin made his way to the barn where he could hear Hagan shouting curses at the cattle he was working with.

"Damned creatures," he spat as he turned to see Rumplestiltskin coming toward him. "Ah, what are you wantin'," he asked gruffly. "You ain't s'posed to be back fer a few more days."

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head in greeting to the rough farmer. "I wanted to talk to you about buying one of your sheep," he said getting straight to the point. "I'd like to discuss your price."

"I ain't sellin' my sheep," Hagan responded tersely. "I gotta have 'em for me own purposes. What are you wantin' 'em fer anyhow?"

Rumplestiltskin was not a good negotiator and felt himself growing nervous. He swallowed thickly and took a moment to collect himself. He knew how much he could spend on a sheep, and he was determined to try to get his way. Had it only been for himself, he probably would have stammered out a price, and then taken whatever Hagan offered in return. But this was Belle's money. This was to be his and his wife's living. This was their plan for the future. He would not return home empty handed.

"Everything is for sell," he said, unsure of where his words were coming from, "Everything has a price. Sheep included." He informed Hagan of the price he was willing to pay, and the man scoffed.

"I ain't sellin' my sheep fer that," he declared, offended. "You must be out of yer mind."

Thinking quickly, Rumplestiltskin glanced around, trying to figure out what he could do to convince the man to reconsider.

"Lambs, then," he said suddenly. "I know you have a few sheep that are due to give birth soon, and you often sell or slaughter the ones that are born so late in the season. Would you take my offer for two lambs?"

Hagan glared at Rumplestiltskin as he thought. He pressed his filthy hands to his chin, clearly figuring the potential gain or loss of selling two young lambs for the price he'd been offered. Finally, he rolled his eyes and cursed, thrusting his hand out to the spinner. "You got yerself a deal, Spinner," he declared gruffly. Rumplestiltskin grinned, pleased that he'd managed to work out an arrangement and happily took Hagan's hand.

"Might we put this to paper?" He asked.

Hagan glared. "Don't think I'm a man of my word?" He growled and Rumplsetiltskin held his hands up in defense, shaking his head rapidly.

"No, sir!" He declared. "I Just want to make sure you get the amount promised to you. Contracts are becoming quite popular in the villages, and that way you can make sure you aren't being cheated. Not that I would!" He added quickly, feeling flustered, "Just want to be thorough."

"Thorough, yeah," Hagan grumbled, a look of annoyance on his face. "Fine. You make yer contract and bring it to me. Lamb's oughta be born within a fortnight, if my countin's correct."

"I'll be back in a month, then," Rumplestiltskin declared, holding out his hand again to shake Hagan's. He took it, somewhat begrudgingly, and after saying a hasty goodbye, Rumplsetiltskin made his way back home, eager to tell his wife of their good fortune.

When he arrived home, Belle was waiting for him expectantly. She seemed impatient, and her brow creased when he entered, looking grim. "What happened?" She asked as she approached him, reaching out to touch his arm.

He glanced down for a moment, then glanced back up at her with a sparkle in his eyes. "We're getting two lambs, after they're born."

Belle let out a shriek of delight, winding her arms around Rumplestiltskin happily and laughing as he lifted her with ease to twirl her around. When her feet were back on the ground she stepped back and reached out to playfully smack at him, chiding him for worrying her so.

She reached out to smack him once more, but he grasped her hand and pulled her to him, lifting her palm and pressing a kiss to it.

"I think we should celebrate," Belle declared, stepping closer to him. She pressed a few gentle kisses against his lips, humming contently.

"I agree whole-heartedly," he whispered huskily, pulling his wife inside their home and toward their bed.

~000~

The next day they fell back into their normal routine. Rumplestiltskin was to go to market that morning to sell some of the wool that he and Belle had worked together to spin, and after a heady kiss that left him dizzy and breathless, he set out to visit Ebert.

When he reached the market, the crowd was ablaze with excitement. He wondered what was wrong, but continued walking, debating on whether or not to ask someone if everything was all right. He could see Ebert's stall, but before he could reach it, a hand roughly grabbed his shoulder, turning him around. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at the tall stranger who'd manhandled him to see it was a soldier of the king's army. He was dressed in the black uniform of a soldier, and he stared down at Rumplestilskin with hardened eyes.

"Are you Rumplestiltskin, the spinner?" The man asked, and Rumplestiltskin was quick to nod. The man reached into the satchel he was carrying and pulled out a scroll, offering it tersely to him. "You've been drafted into the King's Army," the man declared as Rumplestiltskin rolled open the parchment to read the words. "You will report to the village of Mosbach, and will travel out from there. Am I understood?"

Rumplestiltskin stammered out an answer, distracted by the parchment. He'd been drafted. His greatest fear and secret wish had come to pass. He was to fight in the war; he was going to do something brave! He could not wait to tell Belle the news! He turned, forgetting about selling the wool and rushed home, shouting his wife's name as he went.

When he arrived home, he rushed inside, letting the basket of wool fall from his arms carelessly.

"Belle!" He called out, and she glanced up from her embroidery with a smile.

"I made a straight line," she declared triumphantly. He glanced down at the line she'd made and smiled at her lovingly.

"You've learned quickly," he praised.

"I had a great teacher." She tilted her head up, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her. He pulled back, his entire body thrumming with energy and she gave him a curious look. "You're home early," she stated, setting aside her needlework. "What's going on?"

He thrust the scroll out to her, and she took it gingerly from him, her eyebrow cocked in interest. She unrolled the parchment and read it, glancing up at him with horror as he spoke. "I've been called to the front," he said excitedly. "I report for training in the morning!"

He bounced on his feet, his hands clutched into fists in his excitement. He could hardly contain himself, but his enthusiasm quickly died when Belle shook her head despairingly.

"No, Rumplestiltskin, you can't do this," she declared, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to sit in the chair across from her. "Papa's told me things about the front. I've read about these kinds of wars. It's going to be awful, Rumple. You could be killed!"

He took her hands in his as his heart grew heavy with the realization that she was right. In his excitement, he'd forgotten just what it was he'd been drafted to, but he shoved away the fear that started to bloom in his chest. This was his chance and he wasn't going to be afraid anymore.

"I've not spoken much of it," Rumple began, "But I've lived under the shadow of my father's actions for too long now. He was a coward; his reputation has become mine and I've always wished to become more than what he was. I think this is what I've been waiting for. I can be brave and fight against the Ogres and then no one can say I'm a coward."

"But will it be worth it?" She asked brokenly. "You are not your father. I know you're not a coward. Papa knows. You know. Why does it matter what anyone else thinks of you?"

"Because I want a better life for us both, and that's never going to happen if people don't see that I'm more than what they perceive," he said, pressing his hand to his chest. "I have to do this, Belle. I don't want to leave you, but I have no choice."

"You always have a choice," she whispered, looking down at her lap. "But if this is what you choose, then I will stand by you. Go fight. Be brave; be safe. And come home quickly."

He said nothing for a long time, instead sliding his hand up to cup her cheek. After some time he spoke. "You'll be fine without me."

He meant it as a question, but he dared not ask it directly. Of course she would be all right without him. She had lived a good life before he crashed into her and they'd begun their whirlwind romance; she would be fine with him gone.

"Of course I will," she declared. "I'll manage while you're gone. I'll go get the lambs when they're born. I'll take care of everything while you're gone. And when you get back we will pick up right where we left off." She hesitated a moment, then glanced up at him hopefully. "And maybe even….start a family?"

He grinned, relief flowing through him. Everything he'd ever wanted was sitting before him, and he kissed her deeply, the thought of a child joining them making him smile. "Our very own family," he whispered. "It's a thought that will keep me warm in the days to come."

"I love you," she whispered in response, grasping for his hand. "When must you leave?"

"At sunrise," he answered and he couldn't help but noticed the small, dry sob that escaped her.

"I have the rest of the day with you, then," she said with a finality that made him wince. "The rest of the day to do with you as I please."

He nodded. "And what would you do with me?" He asked softly; hopeful.

She said nothing, but instead stood and pulled him by the hand over to their bed. Where the day before they'd been playful in their lovemaking, this time they were solemn and slow. She held him close to her, and he kissed every inch of exposed skin that he could, knowing very well that it would be some time before he had this pleasure again. He did not allow himself to think of the possibility that this could be the last time he enjoyed his wife. If those thoughts took root, he would refuse to go and remain at her side in shame.

But he knew this was what he needed. He needed to go; he wanted to go. He wrapped his arm around Belle's middle, and she sighed as he pressed her closer to him. The Ogres were wreaking havoc on the lands, and if they were to have a family, a desire that had settled firmly into his heart, he knew a world with Ogres in it was no place to raise a child. Better he help rid the world of them now so that his son or daughter could grow up in peace.

Neither of them slept that night. They kissed and spoke in soft whispers of the future, when he returned and Rumplestiltskin wondered how Belle would handle being without him. He worried, as he always did, but he consoled himself that she would have her father and her books and her chores to keep her busy, and perhaps she would not miss him too much.

When dawn arrived, it was with a heavy heart that Belle let her husband go. He kissed her one last time, deep and desperate and lovingly. When they finally parted, he touched her face, whispered his love to her, and turned away. Belle watched him go, and did not move until he disappeared over the small hill that lead to the village. Only then did she allow herself to weep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we are making our way into Rumple's canon back story. We're in for one heck of a ride.
> 
> Chapter 12 will be up January 3, 2014 (My goodness how time flies!) I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays and I wish you a very Happy New Year!
> 
> Mosbach is a small village in Germany. I do not have any information about it, but I am simply using the name. The Mosbach in this story is not based on the actual town; just the name is used. Since Rumplestiltskin is of German origin, I decided to use German names for places and some of the villagers (see Ebert and Hagan.)
> 
> _Disclaimer_ : Some of the dialogue in this chapter was taken directly or paraphrased from OUAT episode 2x14 ("Manhattan"). All recognizable characters and dialogue belong to their respective creators (Horrowitz and Kitis, the writers, ABC, etc). All original characters belong to me.


	12. Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He would not abandon them, he vowed. He would summon up all the courage he could and he would survive; he would return to his wife a new man. A man worthy of her love.

Chapter 12: Courage

Rumplestiltskin was no soldier.

That fact became blindingly obvious to him as he stepped foot into the camp. He'd sat through a briefing at the meeting point the day before, where a knight had explained to them their duties, and gave them their specific orders. All the men around him buzzed with excitement over the prospect of slaying monsters, but now that he was here, all Rumplestiltskin could think of was getting out alive.

He and several other soldier's had been given the task of training with the sword. Rumplestiltskin had never held such a weapon in his life, but he was relieved when he learned that he would spend the first three month's of his time in the King's Army training for the fight. There had been rumors that men were drafted and thrown out onto the field, more an offering to the Ogres than a combatant. Rumplestiltskin took solace in the fact that he would at least face the creatures with the knowledge of how to fight.

He and the troop he'd been assigned to marched for three days to the camp near the front. He was given his provisions, a tent, King's Armor, and a few other basic supplies and instructed to set up camp. The training would begin the next day and would continue every day for the next three months or until the Duke declared they were needed - which could come at any moment.

Rumplestiltskin found a small empty patch of land near the end of a row of tents and began to painstakingly set his up. His hands shook from his nervousness, and he could tell that other soldiers who passed by were staring at him humorously. He sighed to himself, praying to the gods that he would not be known as a fool here; and as if he'd been heard, the tent was lifted from his hands and a man glanced over at him with friendly, wide eyes.

He said nothing, but held one end of the tent out to Rumplestiltskin who took it quickly, and they worked in silence as they put of the tent. When it was finished, Rumplestiltskin turned to thank the man, but before he could speak, the man held up his hand to stop him.

"Had a right good time with mine, too," he said. "It's a tricky thing; you gotta know how to handle it. No one offered to help me, and I bet you I spent two hours trying to get the damn thing up right."

"Thank you," Rumplestiltskin said anyway, offering the man a hesitant smile. "You're very kind."

"Nah, think nothing of it. Name's Adimar," the man said. "Though most call me Adi." He offered Rumplestiltskin his hand, and Rumple took it gratefully. This camp was in another village that was close to the front and far from home, and hardly anyone knew him here. Here he did not have to be the coward. Here he was no longer just the poor spinner. There were those who knew him as such, but there were more who did not. He saw this brother in arms as a potential ally - a friend who would know none of his pathetic past and would judge him based on what he saw on the fields.

It was a fresh start in many ways, and Rumplestiltskin was not going to let it pass him by.

"I'm Rumplestiltskin," he replied at long last, letting go of the taller man's hand.

"Well, ain't that a mouthful!" Adi laughed. "Mind if I call you Rum?"

"My uh…my wife calls me Rumple."

"I'll leave that for your wife," Adi laughed, "I'll stick with Rum, if that's all right."

Rumplestiltskin had never been fond of his name. He'd enjoyed Belle calling him "Rumple". It had been sweet and full of affection. It was a name that was whispered sweetly in the dead of night. It was a name that evoked the warmest and loveliest sensations in him. For Belle he would stay Rumple, but for his comrades, for his new friend, he could be Rum. Rum was simple. It was different. It wasn't a reflection of the man he'd always been, and he embraced the change.

"Rum is fine," Rumple agreed with a smile. Deciding to change the subject he asked, "Is this your first time fighting?" Now that he had a friendly face to talk to, he was reluctant to let him go. He hadn't made small talk or had a friendly conversation with anyone other than Belle or her father in so long that he'd forgotten how nice it was to talk without having the shame of his family sitting noticeably between them.

Adi nodded. "Aye it is. But I'm ready," he said with palpable excitement. "My brother's joined the army not long ago. I stayed behind to help with the farm, but I longed for the day I could join them here."

Rumplestiltskin glanced around. "And where are your brothers?"

"Dead," Adi replied. "And much as I miss them, I know it's my duty to help defeat these monsters to avenge them. They fought and died bravely so I'm told, and in the end that's all I could have asked of them."

Rumplestiltskin disagreed. Had he any brothers, he would have wanted them to return home safely. He was a minority in his opinions of death and glory, but this man handled his grief by vowing vengeance against the monsters who'd taken his brother's lives. Rumplestiltskin could not begrudge the man that.

"Have you been assigned a post?" Adi asked, changing the subject. He did not dwell on one topic long, and Rumplestiltskin was grateful that the somber topic of before was quickly banished for more enthusiastic conversation.

"I'm to train with the sword," he said, "I'll be in the front lineup."

"Ay!" Adi declared excitedly, slapping Rumplestiltskin on the back. "It seems I've met my partner then! I'm to train with the sword as well. Looking forward to slashing those bastards limb from limb!"

Rumplestiltskin smiled tersely and nodded, wincing from the sting on his upper back from where his new friend had hit him. "We're to see the blacksmith before the morrow'," Rumplestiltskin stated, "To get our weapons."

"And fine weapons they shall be!" Adi declared. Rumplestiltskin wondered if the man was so excitable over everything. "Come on," he said, grabbing Rumplestiltskin by the arm and half-dragging him toward the black smith's tent. "Let's go see the 'smithy."

Rumplestiltskin let himself be dragged, laughing at Adi's excitement to be armed. He had the distinct feeling he would be having an unofficial training session later that evening.

~000~

Belle was going mad. It had been three weeks since her husband left for the Ogre Wars, and she was desperate for him to return home. She'd visited her father every day, spending as much time with him as possible. She hated returning to her small, empty home every evening and could only imagine how miserable Rumplestiltskin had been all those years before she'd come into his life.

They had not been married long, but Belle had quickly grown used to her life with him. She had loved Rumplestiltskin from the moment he'd presented her with that bouquet of flowers when they'd gone to the summer festival together.

She knew it would be a long time before her husband returned to her, if he even returned at all. She tried to banish those thoughts but knew it was a hopeless endeavor. It was a real possibility that she had seen her husband for the last time, if the horror stories from the battlefield could be believed. She'd never been interested in listening to the tales that came from the front, but now that her husband had a real chance of being the poor soul in the tale, she had even less interest in listening to people discuss the gruesome scenes from the battlefield.

Instead, she stayed with her father, cleaned, and carried on with life as best she could. She recruited her father to help her set up the small sheep's pin that would hold the lambs she and Rumplestiltskin were going to purchase, and the thought of her husband coming home to two healthy sheep, ready for profit encouraged her.

Finally after several more days of anxious waiting, she received word that the lambs Rumplestiltskin had been promised were ready to be collected. She traveled to Hagan's farm early one morning with the money and contract Rumplestiltskin asked her father to make to collect the sheep. Hagan greeted her with a deep frown and was instantly unpleasant, making lewd comments and griping about how poor taste it was that the spinner had sent his wife to do 'a man's job'.

"My husband is away fighting the Ogres," she said tersely. "What would you have me do? Stay home and pine for him until he returns? There are things that cannot wait that must be done, and I cannot wait for him to come home from war."

"I didn't mean nuthin' by it, Lass," Hagan replied hastily, not sure how to handle a woman speaking back to him in such a manner. Had it been his own wife or children he would not have hesitated to raise a hand to them, but this was another man's wife and a customer, so he held his tongue the rest of the time, signing the contract presented to him and collecting his coins. He offered to help her take the sheep to their new home, and although she was not fond of the man, she was beginning to feel ill and quickly agreed.

They did not speak as they traveled back to her home. Hagan was unwilling to speak and risk her sharp retorts, but Belle had no interest in making idle conversation as she concentrated on not getting sick. She hadn't felt this way before, and she could not wait to get home, get the sheep settled, and send Hagan on his way so that she could lie down and let whatever had come over her pass.

They arrived, and Hagan laid the sheep inside their pin, all the while explaining to Belle how to care for them. He was in his element here as he explained the best ways to care for the animals, and Belle could see the man behind the brute. He was gruff and oftentimes hateful, and it was no secret that he was less than kind to his wife for bearing him too many girls, but as he stroked one of the lamb's head Belle could see his potential kindness. If only he could realize it.

He bid her good day, declining her polite offer for something to drink – for which she was grateful – and went on his way. She made sure the small lambs were settled and had plenty to eat and drink after which she went inside and collapsed onto her bed. She clutched her stomach as it cramped and ached. She felt that she might retch, but she was so sick that she could not find the strength to search for a pail. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, inhaling deep and exhaling slowly. The pain dulled, and once her mind was not clouded from that, the thought that she had not yet bled occurred to her.

She was diligent in keeping track of her bleeding, though in recent weeks she had been too distracted by her husband and their new life to properly count her days. She had a piece of parchment hidden in one of her books that she used to count and track, and once she felt she could move without emptying the contents of her stomach, she rose and dug through her trousseau where she kept her books. Their home was not large, so she had offered to keep most of her things that were not needed every day put away. She found the book, a romantic tale, and flipped to the back and pulled out the folded piece of paper that had her days marked down. She sat down at the small table and began to count, thinking back to the last day she'd marked down up until the present.

Her brow furrowed. If she were correct, she should have bled a few days after Rumplestiltskin left for training. That had been a month ago at this point, and she frowned. That couldn't be right. She tried again; counting and thinking back but no matter how many times she calculated it, it came out the same. She was late.

Staring at the paper, her hand drifted almost instinctively to her stomach. Something fluttered inside her, and though she decided she would wait a couple more weeks, just to be sure, the thought of being pregnant with Rumplestiltskin's child filled her with a curious warmth she had never felt before. She'd been worried about having a child during this war - especially with the now very real chance that the child would not have a father – but now that there was likely a child already growing within her, she couldn't help but feel excited. There was fear as well, but there would always be fear at the thought of bringing a child into this world. Belle quickly decided to put aside that fear and instead concentrate on finding out for certain if she was carrying a child.

~000~

The next day Belle sat on the chair, staring down at the rags in her hands. She reasoned that her distress over Rumplestiltskin could have affected her, and so she'd worn her rags to bed, wondering if she would wake up the next day with them covered in blood. Now she held them, and they were spotless. She wadded them up and threw them in the small basket that held the other towels, rags, and clothing that needed to be washed. She'd been neglectful in her laundering since Rumplestiltskin left, and she chided herself on her laziness. Her husband was out fighting; she could at least keep the house clean so that when he returned, he had a nice home to come back to.

But now she had not the strength nor the will to rise and clean. Instead she wondered what she should do regarding her possible child. She entertained the idea of going to the midwife for answers. It would be a relief, to know with certainty whether or not she was to be a mother. And the more she thought about it, the more the thought warmed her. She _wanted_ to be a mother. She wanted it dearly.

With that revelation, she stood and grabbed her cloak. She wanted to know, lest she get her hopes up for nothing, and rushed out the door. She needed council and advice and perhaps a book or two on the subject. Even if she were not pregnant, she would begin preparing for it, so that when Rumplestiltskin came home, they could start their family.

She made it to the hut where the woman lived and worked, and knocked on the door carefully.

"Enter, love," the voice on the inside said, and Belle pushed the door open and slipped inside. The room was dark, save for a few candles. There were thick, dark pieces of fabric covering the windows, giving the room an eerie feel. Belle couldn't see much of the layout of the room, but she could make out two women on the floor near the center of the room, one breathing in heavy, long breaths, the other holding her hand and whispering encouragement. Belle watched, what little she could, as the woman lying down alternated between breathing and moaning in pain, and after a while, she stopped.

The other woman, the midwife, stood then, and wiping her hands on her apron, focused her attention on Belle.

"What can I do for you, love?" The woman asked.

Ignoring her question, Belle glanced down at the other woman on the floor. "Is she all right?"

Nodding dismissively, the midwife nodded. "Oh yes, yes. Had a difficult pregnancy, that one has. Due to go into labor soon. I'm just trying to make her last days before the babe comes as comfortable as possible."

Belle swallowed heavily. Were all pregnancies uncomfortable? How much pain was there before the child came? She suddenly felt warm and her hands began to sweat from her nervousness.

The woman nodded again, then moved over and began uncovering the windows. Light poured in, causing Belle go blink and the other woman to groan.

"You'll be fine," the midwife said to the other woman. Belle glanced down at her, unable to keep from staring at her middle. She was large, clearly toward the end of her pregnancy, and she looked ragged and war-torn. The midwife eased the woman up, and helped her stand, steadying her before moving over to a cupboard and rummaging through some things before returning and offering her a small vial.

"Drink this tonight, and you should be able to sleep without difficulty," the woman said. "And come back tomorrow. I have a feeling the child will be ready."

The woman, too tired to answer, merely nodded and took the vial before turning and slowly staggering to the door. She acknowledged Belle, who gave her a polite nod in return, and waited for the woman to address her.

"What is the matter, love?"

"I have not bled, ma'am," she said softly, "I think I may be with child, but I wanted to consult you to be sure."

"Come sit."

Belle obeyed, sitting on a stool across from the old woman. "Call me Agda," the woman said, offering Belle her hand. Belle took it and the woman ran her hands over Belle's knuckles in a soothing manner. "Now, when did you last bleed?"

Belle told her everything, showing her the paper, and explaining how ill she'd felt the day she'd gone to get the sheep from Hagan's farm. The woman, who was not shy about prying into the most personal and private aspects of a woman's life, asked how often she'd been intimate with her husband, and Belle blushed at the thought of discussing her intimate relations with someone. But she sat up straight and mentioned all the times they'd been together, and the woman tutted in amusement.

"Ah, the joys of a fresh marriage," Agda cooed, and Belle wondered at the woman, who looked old enough to be a mother, but not quite so old as one would expect of a midwife to be. Belle had never needed to visit the midwife, though she had seen her from afar, and she'd always expected a little old woman who was stronger and wiser than she seemed. This woman could not have been more than forty, and was tall, plump, and pretty. Her hair was a light brown, and tied back in a bun. She had wide eyes and a genuine smile that displayed her crooked teeth. She had a friendliness about her that calmed Belle; this was a woman she could trust. This woman cared not who her husband was and was only concerned in finding out enough information to help. And though Belle was embarrassed by the nature of some of the questions, she forced herself not to blush and answer them with as much truth as she could. This woman had no doubt heard and seen much. Belle's troubles were nothing new for Agda.

"All signs point to a pregnancy," Agda said with a firm nod, "But I would wait to see if you bleed. If you do not bleed in the coming month, then I shall offer my congratulations, and any help you may desire."

Before Belle could respond, Agda leaned forward and grabbed Belle's hand. "I know your husband was called away to fight," she said. "Many of the men were. But you rest easy, my dear. I'll take good care of you." She leaned back and offered a sly smile. "Your husband will most likely be in for a surprise when he returns."

Yes, Belle thought. He would be.

She left Agda's with a promise to return in one month. She walked aimlessly and found herself wandering to the field where she and Rumplestiltskin had danced together at the festival, not wanting to go home just yet. She laid down on the soft grass, stretching out and basking in the warm sunlight. She rested her hands against her stomach and felt a flutter of excitement as she thought of the coming months and the child that would greet her soon. She would have to wait until she was certain, but Agda had seemed certain. It would be exciting, Belle thought, to prepare for a child. There would be so much to do. She would have to borrow books from Agda. She's seen a shelf lined with them and she had no doubt that there would be plenty of things she did not know. She would learn and she would grow and she would become a mother.

And then Belle began to cry. As much as she looked forward to this, she wished her husband could be with her to share in her joy. She could envision it now: he would be overwhelmed. He would fret over her constantly, chiding her for doing much more than lifting a finger. And suddenly she missed him. It had been a constant ache since he'd left, but she'd managed. Now it crashed over her like a wave and she felt as if she might drown in the sorrow of his absence. Above all else, she wished he could be here to share in her joy. It would not be the same without him. She did not know when he would return, and it was easy to imagine a future where she went into labor and bore her child without the father even being aware of its existence. It broke her heart to think that her husband was away with no knowledge of the child he could very well come home to.

When the last of her tears slid down her cheeks and watered the grass, she sat up, dusted herself off, and made her way back to her home. She'd felt sorry for herself and had a good cry but now it was time to carry on, face the future before her, and hope for the best. She would wait for her husband, and she would wait for the proof of their love to begin growing prominently. She would wait with diligence and persistence, and if she bore a child without her husband present, then she would do so. He would be home one day. It was a hope that she clung to, and she knew that in the months to come, she would need as much hope and courage as she could muster.

~000~

"Ah ha ha!" Adi shouted as he blocked Rumplestiltskin's advance, swiveling around to strike. Rumplestiltskin dodged, smiling in disbelief as he managed to not get slashed yet again. They'd been training daily, and Adi was determined to become the greatest swordsman the King's Army had ever seen. And he seemed determined to drag Rumplestiltskin along with him.

It was fun, having a friend, and Rumplestiltskin laughed as he dodged yet another attack and struck again at Adi.

Where Adi was tall, Rumplestiltskin was not, which gave him a slight advantage. He was quicker too, and could slip around Adi with ease and grace. He was still poor with a sword, but he was dedicated to his craft, and enjoyed sparring with Adi as often as he could. Rumplestiltskin wondered if this was what having a brother was like, and it was a thought that delighted him. If he could not have his Belle, he could have his friend to talk to. He hoped Belle had found comfort in a friend as well; the separation was painful at the least, and he silently thanked Adi for keeping him too busy to sit and dwell on his wife. He knew if he thought of her too long, he would pack his belongings and return to her; and he knew that would bring no good for either of them.

"You're too quick!" Adi breathed heavily, dropping his sword in defeat. "How do you always manage to get behind me? I can't ever tell which way you're going to go!"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged and laughed as Adi collapsed to the ground, laughing breathlessly. "They should have called you Rumple-stealth-skin."

Adi laughed heartily as his joke and before long Rumplestiltskin admitted defeat and laughed too. He sat down next to Adi to catch his breath. "Please don't call me that," he begged.

Adi laughed again and reached over to pat Rumplestiltskin's arm. "No worries there. Still way too much to pronounce."

A noise to the left caused the two men to look over, and they saw a small gathering of soldiers had formed, two others in the middle of them. Adi sat up and squinted in that direction. "Wonder what's going on?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged and stood. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

Adi jumped up clumsily and followed Rumpletiltskin to the group. In the middle were two soldiers, one Rumplestiltskin had never seen before, and one he had.

"I know him," Rumplestiltskin whispered to Adi, pointing to the tall, lanky lad. "He's from my village. His name's Wilmar."

"What's he like?" Adi asked curiously.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "He gave me a black eye once."

"What'd you do to deserve that?" Adi asked, seeming surprised.

"I told him not to speak ill of my wife, and he punched me."

"Sounds like a fine lad," Adi growled, glaring at the boy who was too busy fighting off someone else to notice.

"She punched him back," Rumplestiltskin admitted. "After I was knocked out. His eye looked almost worse than mine."

"Shame she's married to you," Adi teased. "I'd like me a woman who could slug a man to the ground."

"She's something else," Rumplestiltskin agreed, his thoughts drifting to his wife.

"Think we oughta help the poor bastard?" Adi questioned, stepping forward but Rumplestiltskin held out his hand to stop him.

"Looks like some officers are coming. We should let them handle it. In fact I'd rather not let Wilmar see me."

"Then lead the way, Stealth-skin," Adi answered, causing Rumplestiltskin to glare at the man before sneaking away to let the officers deal with the pulverized Wilmar. To Rumplestiltskin, it was no less than what the boy deserved.

~000~

As the day progressed, Rumplestiltskin could not shake the thought of Wilmar from his head. He had no desire to approach the lad and say anything to him. That would lead to nothing but trouble, and Rumplestiltskin did not want to draw attention to himself from the men of his village who would find entertainment in ridiculing him in front of his comrades.

But seeing Wilmar had made him think of home and of the whispers and stares he and Belle had dealt with during their courtship. Things had died down after a while as neither of them did anything to cause rumors to spread more than normal. But he worried about her. He wondered if she was doing well. He wondered if she was enjoying her time to herself or if she pined for him the way he pined for her. As enjoyable as his time here had been, he longed to return to his wife; but he knew he had a duty to his people and his country, so he would stay. He would fight.

He lay in his tent that night, tired, sore, and homesick. He enjoyed the training sessions, brutal and tiresome though they were. Had it not been for Adi, ever excitable and encouraging, Rumplestiltskin would not have thought himself possible to do what was expected of him. He'd managed so far, but it was Adi who stirred his spirit and kindled his patriotism for his king and people. He was glad to have met such a soldier whom he could stand next to and draw from his courage. Adi was afraid of nothing, and Rumplestiltskin envied his newfound friend.

They had not spoken intimately, their friendship budding over simpler things. Rumplestiltskin had mentioned Belle a couple times, but he'd not said much else about his life at home. Adi was more open and mentioned his brother's frequently, but he only spoke of their skills at the sword and bow. Adi was born to be a soldier, Rumplestiltskin could see that. And despite Adi's insistence that Rumplestiltskin would grow into his armor, a joke that always made Adi chuckle, Rumplstiltskin knew his place was at his wheel, with Belle at his side. There was no shame in such a place, he thought. He enjoyed spinning. He was good at it, and had managed to teach his wife in a short time how to manage – a skill that would come in handy now that he was here and she was home.

He longed to see Belle. He wanted to write to her, to ensure her that he was well but the war had taken such a toll that the only messengers that came back and forth were from the King or the Duke; they could not afford to send messengers to all parts of the land bearing words of love and longing from lovers separated by The Cause. There were those who could bribe a messenger to deliver a letter, but the bribes were more money than Rumplestiltskin could even imagine, so he resigned himself to the fact that he would not hear one word about his dear wife until he crossed the threshold of their home.

If he made it home.

The more he trained, the more he realized just how susceptible he was to death. Adi was fierce and strong, but never used all his force, and always stopped short of truly causing Rumplestiltskin harm. The Ogres would not be so generous, and he hoped that when it came time to face them he would be brave and fight to whatever end. He was afraid, he truly was. But he would do this, for himself, for his people, and most importantly, for Belle. He would find the courage to do what his father could not: he would fight for those he loved. He would not abandon them, he vowed. He would summon up all the courage he could and he would survive, and he would return to his wife a new man. A man worthy of her love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a very Happy New Year!
> 
> Chapter 13 should be up on Friday the 10th, as usual. There is a slight chance that I may have to delay until the 11th, but it's a very slight chance. Just want to give you a heads up in case I don't make my usual Friday post.
> 
> _Disclaimer_ : I do not own Once Upon a Time, or any of its characters. This is for entertainment purposes only. I make no money off this. Agda, Wilmar, and Adi belong to me.


	13. Fatherless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would he do, she wondered, if he knew he was going to be a father?

Chapter 13: Fatherless

"I haven't bled."

Agda looked up from the papers she was sorting through to see Belle standing in the doorway. She smiled and waved her hand to welcome Belle inside, and she quickly entered with a look of relief. She sat down as Agda instructed and waited as Agda fixed some tea. She placed the hot drink in front of Belle and nodded toward it, "It'll help soothe your nerves," she explained.

"I'm not nervous," Belle replied. Agda raised her eyebrow and gave Belle a fixed look.

"You're with child, love," she stated plainly, "You're nervous, even if you don't feel it."

Belle nodded meekly and drank deeply as the warmth of the tea calmed her in a way she hadn't known she needed.

"What sort of books do you have on the subject?" Belle asked as she held the cup between her hands, letting it warm them. It was a cool day outside, and though it did not feel unpleasant, the warmth of the cup was welcome.

"I have all sorts of books, love," Agda replied with a grin, "I should have expected you would want to read them."

"May I?" Belle asked plainly. "I don't have to take them home. I can come here and read. Maybe you can teach me what some practical things I'll need to know when it-the baby…comes."

It was hard for her to say, that she was with child. It was a fact she'd easily accepted when she did not bleed at the usual time, but despite its easiness there was a certain heaviness that accompanied it. She should be joyous, and she was to a degree. But that joy was weighed down by the fact that the one person she wanted to share that joy with was countless miles away and completely unaware that he was a father.

Belle had been determined not to cry; she didn't want to weep and carry on in such a way, but she felt the tears coming faster than she could stop them and soon she was in Agda's arms, crying hard. Agda was used to this sort of thing, so she held Belle close and rubbed Belle's back, gently shushing her and murmuring that it was okay to cry. "You'll find yourself crying over dropping something, or angry over other silly things," she whispered, "Pregnancy turns a woman into a strange being, but then the child comes and all is forgotten and forgiven," she said as she ran her fingers through Belle's hair, "It's all right, dear."

Belle nodded despite her tears falling harder, and Agda went silent, letting Belle cry until she was finished. Once the tears subsided and all that remained was a runny nose and hiccups, Agda offered her a handkerchief and fixed another cup of tea while Belle blew her nose.

Agda sat down, resting her arms on the table, and watched Belle expectantly. Belle sniffed, and took a sip of tea. "Thank you," she said, her voice scratchy from crying.

"You're not the first," Agda said with a grin, "And you won't be the last. Now, do you have any questions?"

Belle nodded, and her eyes brightened with the prospect of learning. "A few," she admitted.

Belle left Agda's an hour later with all of her questions answered and three thick books in her arms to answer all the questions she did not yet know to ask. Agda made her promise to visit regularly and to swap out books so that she could monitor Belle's progress. Belle didn't feel ill other than the occasional bout of naseua, and Agda told her to thank the gods that she had such an easy start, "But pray it remains that way," she warned, "The trials a woman can face before the child is ready to be delivered can be grueling. I want you to take it easy, no matter how well you feel. Rest is the key for both you and the babe."

Belle walked on with the books heavy in her arms. She thought about going straight home to read, but as she came across the path that would lead her to her father's house, she paused. He deserved to know, she thought. For all that she had thought about telling Rumple the news, she had not yet considered going to her father. He'd joked about wanting a grandchild, so this would surely be welcome news. And at the very least, she desperately needed her Papa.

She traveled the short distance to her father's home, surprised to find herself out of breath by the time she arrived. She knocked and waited patiently for her father to open the door. He was surprised to see her but welcomed her in with a smile and immediately set about offering her food and drink.

"I am a bit hungry," she admitted with a blush. She wasn't just taking care of herself now she thought, and it occurred to her that she should go by the market after this. For some reason she desperately wanted a sweet cake from the bakers.

"Well sit down, and I'll get you something," Maurice said as he took the books from Belle's arms. He placed them on the table and glanced at her, "These aren't familiar to me. Where did you get them?"

"I, um, borrowed them," she said as she removed her cloak and draped it over her chair.

"Borrowed them, eh?" He asked with a laugh, "And who else in this village has books for you to 'borrow'"?

"Agda."

"Agda? The midwife?" Maurice asked as he pulled out a loaf of bread, "Why would you want to borrow books from the midwife-"

He stopped speaking and whipped his head around to regard his daughter. She was still standing, her hands carefully pressed against her stomach. Maurice stared for a moment, then smiled affectionately at her.

"My dear girl, am I to be a grandfather?"

Belle smiled and nodded.

Maurice let out a yell and rushed over to embrace his daughter. He pulled back quickly, afraid of crushing her, and grasped her hands in his, "My dear Belle, this is wonderful news," he exclaimed, "I'm so happy for you and Rum-"

Again he stopped and looked at his daughter with understanding. "Are you all right?"

She felt the tears coming again, but forced them back. Nodding, she squeezed her father's hand, "I think so. Physically yes. I've not been very ill, not yet at least, but I so wish he were here."

Maurice hugged her to him and sighed, "I know my dear. I know."

"Is there any way I could tell him?" Belle asked as she pulled away to look at her father, "Can I not send a message to him?"

"The only letters that get sent to and from the front lines are from the King or the Duke," he said, "There would be no way to get a letter to him."

Belle sighed and let her head hang. Maurice moved her and gently pushed her down into a chair. "I just don't want him to come back and be shocked," she said with a pitiful laugh, "He'll be so surprised. I can imagine his face now. He'd probably even faint."

She glanced at her father worriedly when he did not laugh. "Papa?"

He sighed and knelt down before her. Belle recognized the look in his eyes as pity, and she instantly turned away, unable to accept what she knew he was about to say.

"Belle," he said with a sigh. Belle shook her head and sniffed, hating that the tears were winning the fight to come forth.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head harder, "No. Please don't talk about that," she begged. "I know he might not come back. I know that he may never know he's a father. But I can't afford to think like that, Papa. I can't do this if I think he may not come home."

"But if he doesn't come-"

"He will."

"But if he doesn't-"

"He will. I can't afford to believe anything different."

"Then we won't."

Belle sighed and wiped at a few of her tears, "At any rate," she said, trying to change the subject away from her husband, "Agda says stress isn't good for the baby."

Maurice chuckled, "Indeed it isn't," he said, "And I expect you to follow all her rules. You read those books and stick to them. You've got to take care of my grandson."

"Or granddaughter."

"So long as he's healthy," Maurice said with a grin. He'd always wanted a son; it was no secret that men wanted sons. That had not kept him from loving Belle with all his heart, but he longed for a boy. This could be the chance he'd long been denied. A healthy grandson with his mother's spark and intelligence and his father's quiet steadfastness; he would be a fine lad. Maurice was certain of it.

"That's what matters," Belle said softly, "That the baby's healthy."

_And that it has the chance to know its father,_ she thought sorrowfully before she pushed it away and focused on her father's already forming plans about what his grandson would be like.

~000~

"One of these days I _am_ going to catch you," Adi said as he slammed the tip of his sword into the grass. He and Rumple had been sparing during their off time, and Rumple was proving to the large and strong Adi that strength wasn't everything.

"You don't call me 'Stealth-skin' for nothing," Rumple teased as he swung his sword about, practicing the skills they had learned earlier that day. Adi rolled his eyes and dropped to the ground, lying back lazily as he watched Rumplestiltskin train. Rumplestiltskin laughed as he practiced his footwork and movements. He was improving day by day, and though he was still no master, he felt so proud of the fact that he could now handle a sword even if he was only half-way decent. He bragged to Adi about how he planned to return home and impress his wife with his sword play.

"I doubt that's the sword she's gonna care about," Adi said cheekily, causing Rumple to stumble and blush. It was the kind of lewd comment Adi typically made, and though Rumple was still not entirely used to them, he couldn't help but find it funny.

Rumple was grateful for Adi. He was the first true friend, save for Belle, he'd ever had, and it was with a slight shock that Rumplestiltskin realized that he genuinely loved this man, and that Adi seemed to view him the same. They were more than brothers in arms. They were friends.

Adi was the kind of man that everyone wanted to be friends with, so Rumple would often found himself surrounded by soldiers he barely knew as they talked with Adi. He had enough charisma to go around, to be sure. Adi thrived on people and conversation, and although he made a point to always seek out Rumple he was friendly with all who approached him because his friendly disposition made him inviting to all.

One of the soldiers who seemed to crave Adi's cheer was Wilmar. Adi thought the boy was a bit cocky as well, but upon further inspection, Wilmar was just a boy in need of guidance and acted out in order to seem bigger than he was. Adi took the boy in just as easily as he had Rumplestiltskin. It wasn't long after that that the two crossed paths. Rumplestiltskin swallowed thickly when Wilmar spotted him standing next to Adi, and for a moment Rumple was convinced that the boy would make some comment in front of others about the last time they'd crossed paths. Instead, he'd merely approached Rumple, stuck out his hand and said, "Your eye looks better."

Rumple hesitantly took his hand and shook it. "So does yours."

Wilmar grimaced, but said nothing. He nodded curtly to Rumple then again to Adi, then left. Adi chuckled and glanced at Rumplestiltskin, "Looks like a truce was just made."

"Is that what that was?" Rumple asked, watching the boy wander off toward a group of younger soldiers.

"Well he didn't try to blacken your eye again," Adi replied with a shrug, "So I'd say it counts."

~000~

Belle sat in her bed reading. She spent the past few days pouring over her books and using some paper and quill her father had given her to take notes of important things that she read. It was incredible the things that she would experience as her child grew within her. Some things did not phase her; others terrified her. She'd never been in the room when a child was delivered although she'd heard stories. And the information found within these tomes was just as horrifying to her as the exaggerated stories women told each other. She'd expected pain, but the kind of pain it discussed was unfathomable to her. Closing the book and setting it aside, she let her hand rest on her stomach. There was no use in worrying about the pain that was still months away. She would arrive at that point eventually, but for now she wanted to enjoy the peaceful quiet between her and her child.

She wondered what it looked like. Did it have fingers and toes? A heartbeat? She drummed her fingers over her stomach and smiled. Could her baby hear her? Was it aware that it was safely enveloped in its mothers care and that she was already deeply in love with it? She sighed and let her head rest against the wall behind the bed. It would be hard without Rumplestiltskin, and she wished she could share in the excitement and the anticipation with him. If only he could know he had a child waiting on him. What would he do, she wondered, if he knew he was going to be a father?

~000~

After that, things became more cordial between Rumple and Wilmar. They never spoke to each other beyond a "hello", but Rumple felt some relief that the shame of his past would not catch up to him here. He suspected Wilmar was just as worried about others finding out a girl had beaten him, and so in their mutual desire to let the past die, they remained silent, only brought together by their mutual friendship with Adi.

One particular evening, several soldiers were gathered by a fire near Adi's tent. They were talking about a variety of things from their lives at home to the training. It was enjoyable, Rumple thought as he sat close to Adi and Wilmar and feeling as close to peaceful as one could when training for a war.

As the men talked, Rumplestiltskin noticed one of the captain's approaching them. He nudged Adi with his elbow, and he looked up to see the captain. He stood and the others followed and bowed respectively.

"Captain," Adi said, speaking for the group. "What brings you here on such a fine evening?"

The captain was in no mood for pleasantries and simply glanced at the men stating, "We've received orders from the Duke to make our way to the front. We will leave first thing in the morning so be packed and ready to go at dawn. We will not wait for stragglers."

The captain turned and marched off heading to another nearby campfire to inform the soldiers there of the news. The men all sat back down, and Adi glanced over at Rumplestiltksin. "Looks like the battle's comin' sooner than we thought, eh, Rum?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded distractedly. He'd spent so long in this camp training that he'd almost forgotten what he'd been training for. The ogres had not been forgotten, but when he spent so much time fighting and sparring with Adi, the realization of why he was there was easy to ignore. It all came back to him in a rush and he felt ill.

He stood, needing to get away from the heat of the fire and the crowd of men, and Adi looked on in concern. "You all right?"

"Yes, yes," Rumplestiltskin said hastily. "Just going to get a start on packing. You heard the man. We leave at sunrise."

He staggered his way back to his tent and collapsed inside. He forced himself to breathe deeply, and he calmed himself almost as quickly as the anxiety had hit him. He glanced around and sighed heavily as he slipped off his shoes, fumbling with the laces in the darkness. He then slid into the small sack that had been his bed for the past two and a half months and let the darkness creep over him even more.

He did not sleep at all that night, and come morning, he dragged at the back of the line, marching with heavy feet and a heavy heart. The time to go to the front had come.

~000~

The march to the front had been long and grueling. It had taken them a week to reach it and a day to set up camp. Not all the men were to go out at once. Instead, a small battalion of expertly trained men was to go out first to gauge the situation and report back. It would be some time before Rumplestiltskin saw true battle, but the longer he waited, the more nervous he became.

The waiting was the worst. He knew very well that he could be facing his death at any time, and the thought often crippled him with fear. He did his best not to focus on it, instead relying on Adi to keep his spirits up. Rumplestiltskin was not a popular man here, but he had never expected to be. Adi was though; everyone wanted Adi's attention, and it made Rumplestiltskin proud to know that he was such a good friend with the man. He was valued by Adi, and although the man knew little about Rumplestiltskin it didn't seem to bother him. He took everything as it was, and if Rumplestiltskin was reluctant to discuss a subject Adi carried on as if it were of no consequence.

He longed to introduce Adi to Belle. The two of them would be quite entertaining together, and thoughts of the future began to fill Rumplestiltskin's mind: Thoughts of a friendly face to visit him after the war was over and all was peaceful. Everyone would respect him for fighting bravely, and he and his wife would begin their family and all would be as it should.

It was a much better thought than those of death, so he held onto them tightly, never daring to let them go for even a moment. He would not make it otherwise. He settled, managing to get his tent set up with little hassle this time and after he finished, he took off in search of Adi. As he looked, he could hear sounds in the distance, shouts and roars, and other unnerving noises. So this was the front.

The other soldiers seemed aware of the same sounds, and although they were distant, almost a whisper for how far away they were, some of the men still jumped. Rumplestiltskin was relieved to know he was not alone in his unease, and he took solace in the fact that even soldiers could feel fear. It made him feel a part of something and no longer an outsider. They could bond in their fear. It might be the only thing that had left by the end.

As the weeks went by, some of the men did not get sent to the front. It was a waiting game, when dealing with the Ogres. There were times they would come out in force and a large portion of men would be called. Then a week would go by without a sign of the monsters. The soldiers were forbidden to go looking for them. Instead, the Ogres were to come to them.

Rumple found himself doing more waiting than fighting, and although he was glad for the waiting at times he wished he could either see action, or just go home. Instead, he found Adi who seemed oblivious to anything unpleasant, and the two talked for some time, eventually getting into a sparring match with their swords. Finally they settled down to a small camp fire, warm and inviting and soon other soldiers joined them, seeking warmth and companionship. They ate their rations, told stories and sang songs, and tried to ignore the distance screams of comrades dying by the Ogre's violent hands.

Things settled quickly at the camp. The special battalion had gone and returned, reporting to the captains, leaving the rest of the soldier's to wonder what was going on. They were told very little, and the lack of information even began to bother Adi.

"You'd think since we're fighting for 'em, we oughta know what's going on," he grumbled one day to Rumplestiltskin as they watched two captains pass by them, speaking in hushed tones.

"You would think," Rumplestiltskin agreed.

He told Adi that he was going to go back to his tent, and the man nodded bidding Rumplestiltskin farewell. Rumplestiltskin began to walk back, but he was still weary from all the training and marching. This was not the kind of life he'd been born for, and it was beginning to take its toll. He wanted to rest, and let his thoughts wander to Belle. He wanted to think of her beautiful, smiling face and her generous, sweet laugh. He missed her so much, and his heart ached for her.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when a Captain moved over in front of him, stopping Rumplestiltskin in his tracks. "Soldier," the man called and Rumplestiltskin stood at attention, as he'd been taught. "I'm needed at the front." He turned and pointed to a large covered crate next to the tent he'd appeared from. "Guard this crate with your life."

Rumplestiltskin nodded with understanding. "Yes, sir."

The Captain seemed appeased and took off, looking rushed and anxious. Rumplestiltskin wondered what had caused the man to be needed so urgently as he moved closer to the crate. He vaguely wondered what lie inside the crate that warranted such diligent watching over, but he decided not to be nosy, and turned his back to it, standing still and waiting.

_"Rumplestiltskin."_

Rumplestiltskin turned at his name and glanced around, but he heard nothing. Rumplestiltskin then realized the sound had come from the covered crate. He took a hesitant step back, and once he was sure no one was paying him any mind, he turned and flipped up the cover. He balked to see a small girl, with long, dirty red curls sitting before him. He noticed with horror that her eyes were gone, and crude stitches marked the top portion of her face. The poor thing was blind.

"Y..you're a child," he whispered with fear. How could a child help them turn the tide of the war? It made no sense to him.

The girl reached her trembling hand through the bars of the cage. Pointing to a bucket of water at Rumplestiltskin's feet, she asked, her voice light and whispy, _"Please. I haven't had a sip in days."_

"How do you know my name?" He asked, wondering if this girl was from his village. But if she were, how would she know him? She could not see.

The girl held out her hands to him, and Rumplestiltskin bit back a cry of fright when, in the center of her palms, two deep blue eyes opened to regard him. They studied him, and he felt almost violated by the way they stared into him.

_"I'm a seer. I see all."_

Shaking his head, Rumplestiltskin quickly ignored her. Seers were just childhood stories to scare naughty children into behaving, he thought. "No. No, no that's not possible. You must have heard someone else speak it," he reasoned.

The girl shoved her hands forward again, and the eyes looked up at him with scrutiny. _"Rumplestiltskin_ ," the girl whispered, _"Son of a coward. Raised by spinsters. Scared of ending up just like his father."_ She returned her hands to rest in her lap and looked at him smugly. _"Did I overhear that? I told you. I see all. Even what has yet to pass."_

"You mean the future?" Rumplestiltskin asked with immediate interest, though he was still not convinced. "You can see the future?"

The girl nodded. _"Indeed I can,"_ she told him. _"Including yours."_

He shook his head, cursing himself for ever answering to her call. "No. No I won't indulge this dark magic." He had no interest in his future, he told himself. All he wanted was to be relieved from his post so he could go find Adi and take his mind of this strange girl with the eyes. He turned, prepared to cover her back up and ignore her when she spoke again.

_"Not even if what I see concerns your wife? Belle?"_

He whirled around, and she had his attention now. Now he was afraid that Belle was in danger he gripped the bars and asked, "Has something happened to her?"

The girl nodded toward the bucket. _"Give me water."_

Sighing in annoyance, Rumplstiltskin bent down and filled the cup for the girl. Thrusting it into the cage, he declared, "Here. Slake your thirst witch and tell me what you know of my wife!"

The girl drank deeply from the cup, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but wonder just what sort of treatment the girl had been subjected to. She looked thin and frail, and her hands shaking slightly as she held the cup to her lips. She rested the cup in her lap and held out her hands as the eyes opened wide. They looked around frantically as if she were searching for something that couldn't be seen with mortal eyes. The eyes looked past Rumple, and a moment later the girl spoke, _"She is heavy with child."_

The world around Rumplestiltskin vanished. All thoughts of seers, the war, and everything else disappeared from his mind as his thoughts circled around that notion. "I'm to be a father?" He asked, his voice shaking in awe. He could feel joy welling up within him, and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry in his joy.

The girl wasn't finished speaking, and he forced himself to listen, willing to believe anything. _"Your wife will bear you a son,"_ she said, and his heart leapt. _"But your actions on the battlefield tomorrow will leave him fatherless."_

Dread filled him, drowning out the elation he'd felt only a moment ago. He looked at her despairingly. "I'm going to die?" Fear gripped him and he began to beg, "No, no. You must tell me how I can stop that happening."

She took another sip of water. _"You can't."_

Anger filled him, and he reached out, ripping the cup from her and throwing it back into the bucket. "Then I'm done helping you."

The girl tilted her head almost innocently. _"For now."_

Rumplestiltskin glared. "I'll bet Belle isn't even pregnant. You just said that so I would get you water, and now you're trying to trick me into deserting."

_"You shall see,"_ she warned. _"When you see the army ride cows into battle, you will know I speak the truth."_

Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "Cows?" He asked incredulously. "And who's going to man the catapoults, milkmaids? I've had enough of your fiendish lies."

Anger seemed to fill the child, and she threw her hands out toward him, her eyes staring hard at him. _"There is no escaping it,"_ she declared in a stern voice. _"You will have a son, and your actions will leave him fatherless."_

Growling in anger, Rumplestiltskin covered the cage and whirled around. He felt confused and uncertain. He glanced around, relieved that no one seemed to have noticed the conversation and he sighed deeply. Belle wasn't pregnant, he reasoned with himself. She wasn't pregnant and he wasn't going to die.

And he certainly wouldn't leave his child fatherless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh….
> 
> Thank you so much for all your reviews, favorites, and follows! I really do appreciate it!
> 
> Chapter 14 will be up January 17!
> 
> Disclaimer: Some of the dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from the episode "Manhattan". Some lines were changed to fit the purpose of this story. I hold no ownership over anything related to Once Upon a Time or the characters. It all belongs to ABC and Kitis and Horowitz. Agda, Wilmar, and Adi belong to me.


	14. The Son of a Coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the back of his mind he knew that this would bring nothing but sorrow for his family, but wasn't it better to be there for them and to bear that shame than to leave his wife a widow and his child fatherless?

Rumplestiltskin did his best to forget the encounter he had with the seer, but as time wore on he began to think about it less and less. They'd been at the front for a couple months at this point, and Rumplestiltskin still had not seen any action. He'd been worked to the bone regardless, helping distribute supplies, taking messages back and forth between captains, and other mundane tasks as well. He'd been to the front lines one a few separate occasions, but it had only been to assist the physicians in gathering up those who survived the previous battle. It never got easier to witness. There were men who were torn apart, limbs missing and blood spilling out of them, staining the grass. Rumple had retched the first time he'd been assigned to help, but he tried his best to steel himself, and help those who needed him.

He always had nightmares after those days. His dreams were plagued with screaming men covered in blood, Ogres attacking his own village, and Belle being killed at the hands of such a violent creature. Those dreams would force him awake violently, his whole body shaking and drenched in sweat. He sometimes dreamed of Belle and his child, the one he didn't believe existed. Those dreams ended in gruesome tragedy as all the others had, and he felt his courage beginning to wane. He wanted to go home and be aware from all this horror. But he had a duty here, and he could not torture himself with thoughts of things that were not true. Belle was not pregnant, he told himself, and it was that thought alone that kept him from fleeing.

~000~

Belle rushed into Agda's hut, a large smile on her face. Agda was writing again, and she looked up at Belle with motherly affection. "Finished already?" She asked, and Belle nodded as she extended her hand to offer the book back to Agda. The other woman shook her head in amusement and turned to put the book back on the shelf, then pulled out another one.

Belle had quickly devoured everything Agda had on bearing a child, and had moved on to other topics. Agda often teased her about reading so much, claiming Belle would soon know more about how to treat sickness and wounds better than she.

"That won't ever happen," Belle declared with a laugh, "I'm no midwife. I just need something to occupy my mind, and I'm sure that my son is going to get into plenty of scrapes that I'll need to patch up."

"So sure it's a boy, are you?" Agda asked, offering Belle a hot cup of tea. Belle took it gratefully and took a sip.

"I had a dream," she explained, "Actually, I've had it several times the past month, and while some things differ, the one thing that is the same is that I'm holding my child, and it's a boy."

"I would trust your instincts, then," Agda said gently, "There are ways to guess what a child might be, but I've found that the best method is the mother's intuition. Have you thought on a name?"

Belle nodded, "I'm thinking about it," she said, "Though nothing feels quite right. And part of me wishes Rumple could be here to name him with me."

"Best to be prepared, just in case," Agda advised, knowing Belle hated to speak about Rumple as if he may not return. Agda knew all the women in the village, and while all the women insisted their husbands, fathers, and brothers would return to them, Belle was the only person she'd seen who said it with such conviction. There was no room to doubt. It gave Agda hope as well, and she smiled at her young charge.

"He'll be back," Belle said simply, taking another sip of her tea, "I can feel it."

"There's that intuition again," Agda commented before sliding the new book to Belle. "This one will come in quite handy," she instructed, "It's all about treating fresh wounds and the best ways to clean them and wrap them. Though bear in mind the drawings are a bit….detailed."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Belle said with a smile. She took the book and flipped through it, "If I'm going to replace you, I'll have to get used to it."

Agda made a face and rose, moving over to her work table. She picked up a small vial of liquid and turned to Belle, "You mentioned nausea in the evenings last time," Agda said as she offered it to Belle, "Drink a teaspoon of this right after you eat, and your stomach should settle."

Belle took the vial and held it to her chest, "Thank you," she said.

"Now off you go," Agda said, shooing Belle away, "You need to continue resting. Your father is helping you with your chores, yes?"

Belle nodded. "He is. I am going to stay with him until the child comes, that way I won't be alone."

Agda bowed her head in approval, "Good girl," she said, "And when the time comes, you send for me. I'll be there in a moment."

Belle hugged the woman and left.

~000~

"But I've barely trained in archery!" Rumplestiltskin declared as the Captain gave him and Adi their orders. The Captain shot Rumple a hateful look and stepped closer to him.

"We are short on men and you will do as you're told, soldier. Is that clear?" There was no room to argue, Rumple could see that, so he nodded meekly and grunted when the Captain thrust a bow and quiver into his arms. "Join the ranks," he ordered, "We attack tonight."

Rumple glanced at Adi, who was already strapping his quiver on. Rumple side stepped to him and whispered, "What do they think they're doing, making swordsmen shoot arrows? I couldn't even hit the target in training; I won't be able to hit an Ogre!"

Adi shrugged and pulled on the bowstring, "They're getting desperate," he said softly, "I overheard one of the Generals talking about it. We're losing, bad. They're trying to hold things off until we can get some more troops and supplies from the king."

"But that could take weeks!" Rumple declared, biting his lip when Adi shushed him, "What do they expect us to do? We can't win like this. This is madness."

Adi shrugged, "I know, but we haven't got much of a choice. Just stick with me, and I'll keep us alive."

"I wish I had your faith," Rumple murmured as they made their way over to get their orders.

~000~

The soldiers marched silently, the scouts ahead signaling that there were no signs of the Ogres. It was to be a surprise attack; the archers would draw the Ogres out, killing some in the process. Once out, the swordsmen would charge, attacking the Ogres full force. Rumple doubted the plan would work.

Adi marched beside him, and it was easy to see that the lad was eager. They came to the designated spot, and the Captain gave silent orders for the archers to stand in two rows. They positioned themselves and waited for the signal.

The Captain, the only one in the troop who was on horseback, rode out to the middle of the blood-soaked field and began to shout. For a moment there was silence, then from beyond the trees on the other side of the field, there was a resounding _thump_. Rumplestiltskin gulped and readied his bow. The Captain shouted again, trying to draw out the creatures, and again there was another _thump_ followed by a horrific roar.

The Captain rode back toward the lineup and pulled out his sword. "On my mark!" He declared, and the archers all shifted, ready to do their duty. "Ready!" The archers lifted their bows as the first of a horde of Ogres burst from the trees. They began sniffing, searching out the disturbance that had brought them forth.

"Aim!" The Captain shouted, and the Ogres' attention focused on them. Rumplestiltskin whimpered and Adi glanced at him, offering him an encouraging smile. "It's all right, Stealth-skin," he whispered.

The Ogres began to advance, and the Captain called out, "Fire!"

Rumplestiltskin took a breath, closed his eyes, and let his arrow fly.

~000~

"I can carry it, Papa," Belle protested as Maurice lifted the trunk with a grunt and led the way out of the house.

"You're carrying my grandson," he scolded, "You worry about him, and I'll worry about the trunk."

Belle laughed and followed her father. She had not mentioned to him that she thought she might be carrying a son, though she enjoyed his certainty. A small part of her hoped for a girl, but she was already so in love with the babe inside her that when the time came she knew she would not care. She was showing clearly now and had been ordered by both Agda and her father to not lift a finger in the last month of her pregnancy. She agreed, but only if she were provided with plenty of books to read.

They arrived at her old home, and Belle smiled fondly at the sight of it. She visited here frequently, but it would be nice to sleep in her old room again. She hadn't missed it much, but in the months since Rumple had gone, she found she did not enjoy sleeping alone. Having her father in the next room would offer a small comfort, especially now that her child was sitting low, causing pain, and ready to enter the world.

Maurice set her trunk on the floor of her small room and wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "How many books are in there, dear?" He asked with a smile.

"Six," Belle answered sheepishly and Maurice laughed.

"Of course," he teased. He ran his hand over the back of her hair, musing her braid slightly, "You get settled and then get in bed. I'll go take care of the sheep." Belle nodded and knelt down to open her trunk. She pulled out the books and placed them on the table for easy access, then pulled out her inkwell, paper, and quill. She stood, arms immediately crossing over her stomach as her child kicked and prodded, and Belle groaned. She placed the items on the table, and then braced her hands against the edge. "Sweetheart, you have to stop that," she gently fussed, "Mama is trying to get settled, and I can't do that if you're squirming all over the place."

The movement ceased a moment later, and the wave of nausea and pain that had taken her passed. She blew out a puff of air and moved back to her trunk. "I'll be so glad when you get here," she whispered, groaning when another wave of sickness took her. She grabbed a pail that was at the foot of the bed and retched. When she finished, she sighed and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, "If only because I'm eager to have my body back to myself."

~000~

Belle awoke with a start as an intense pain in the pit of her stomach shook her from her sleep. She reached over, ignoring the feeling and lit a candle. The cramping pains made her nauseous, but after a moment the pain seemed to ease. She breathed a sigh of relief, the sound turning into a gasp as another wave of intense pain overcame her. The pain was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. She broke out into a sweat, suddenly so hot that she thought she might vomit.

Deciding she needed to get out of the bed, perhaps to get some water, she threw back the covers and stood on unsteady feet. She instantly grew dizzy and turned to place her hands on the bed.

And then she noticed the blood on the sheets.

" _Papa_!" She cried out, instantly filled with fear. "Papa, please!" Her father came rushing into the room in his nightgown, candle in hand, asking what was the matter. He took one look at his daughter, hunched over in pain, and saw the puddle of blood on the sheets - a small amount, but more than there should have been - and he scooped his daughter into his arms and laid her back on the bed.

"Do not move," he ordered. "I'm going to get Agda."

She nodded, and the movement caused her to break out into a sweat. "Hurry!" she pleaded. Maurice didn't need to be told twice. He rushed from the room, and slammed the door with haste. As Maurice left, Belle rolled onto her side, but the pain overwhelmed her senses. She began to cry as the pain seized her in its grip and she lifted up a prayer to the gods that she would not lose her child.

She was brave, but there were some things even _she_ couldn't handle.

~000~

The previous battle had barely been a success. Rumple and Adi had survived with hardly a scratch, as had most of the archers, but the others hadn't been so lucky. It had been hard, seeing his first battle take place, and Rumple was quickly realizing that war was not for him. Glory and honor could surely be found elsewhere he thought, and it seemed he was not the only one. The slight victory they'd achieved did little to lift the spirits of the men. It was becoming clearer that they were outnumbered, undersupplied, and overwhelmed. No one said anything out loud, but the looks the men exchanged when orders were given out were loud and clear. No one believed they were getting out of this alive.

To make matters worse, the camp had received new orders that they would be fighting the next day, and everyone who was able was to be on the front line. It was a death sentence, and Rumplestiltskin was tense with nerves. Adi was doing his best to cheer his friend up but to no avail. Rumple was inconsolable, and though Adi was worried for his friend, he couldn't help but feel excited over finally getting to see a _real_ fight.

Rumplestiltskin and Adi walked along the camp, discussing the upcoming fight. Rumple was afraid but Adi seemed unaffected by the horrors they'd witnessed. To him it was a thrill to go after the Ogres and the thought of death did not make him falter. They were greeted by a returning troop of men who'd been sent out to fight the night before. Several soldiers were in poor condition, their brothers carrying them in on makeshift stretchers. Rumplstiltskin bristled at the sight of a man missing an arm and he quickly looked to Adi for comfort.

"Lucky bastards."

Rumplestiltskin and Adi turned to face the other soldier who'd appeared behind them.

"I think they'd beg to differ," Rumplestiltskin said, casting a pitying glance as another soldier came limping in on a crutch, a fellow man by his side.

The man who'd joined them shrugged and continued, "They're not dead but they can't fight which means they get to go home. It's the only way out of here alive." He gave Rumplestiltskin a pointed look, "When the Ogres tear you apart, pray that they're quick."

Chuckling, the man walked off and Adi looked over to see Rumplestiltskin quivering in fear. "Just ignore him," Adi said soothingly. "He's just looking to cause trouble."

Rumplestiltskin was about to respond when a general approached them. He gathered the men around and declared, "Fortune favors us! Fresh supplies have arrived from the Duke. Today we will not be marching into battle." He offered the men a pleased look. "We'll be riding."

Fear gripped Rumplstiltskin again. "Riding what?" He asked nervously, ignoring the laughter of some of the men behind him.

The general gave him an odd look. "What kind of question is that? A horse, of course." He looked away to address the rest of the men. "Now, grab yourself a cow and Get ready!"

Rumplestiltskin stepped forward, looking at the man with wide, fearful eyes. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The general sighed. "A cow," he said slowly. "The saddles we just got in; made from the finest leather. We call them cows. Grab yours. So at least the ride to the dune will be a soft one on your backside."

He motioned for the men to follow him, but Rumplestiltskin stood paralyzed. Adi patted him on the shoulder in concern. "You all right?"

He nodded absently. "Yes, yes. You go, and I'll catch up."

Adi hesitated, worried that his friend was having a breakdown. "We'll ride together," Adi offered, "Side by side, like always. I won't let anything happen to you."

"You've always taken care of me," Rumple said softly, "Thank you."

Adi patted his shoulder, and Rumplestiltskin motioned for him to go on. Adi hesitated once more, then turned and left, hoping that when they rode into battle, his friend would be fit to fight.

Rumplsetiltskin was frozen. His mind whirled and spun and raced. The seer had been right. The seer had been right. He raced over to the cage, which had sat unmoved since the day he'd encountered the young girl. He knew in the back of his mind that she wouldn't be there, not after all this time, but he needed her. He needed her counsel. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.

He gasped when she wasn't there, gone like a distant memory. Of course she wouldn't be, but it didn't matter. His life was at stake, and he needed answers. He growled and hit the cage, his anger wild and feral. He had to think of something. He had to get home to his son. He was going to have a son. Belle was carrying his child, and he had to be there. He would be there. He would do anything to be there for his son.

His eyes traveled downward, and he caught sight of a sledgehammer. It lay there, innocent and inanimate, a simple tool used for blacksmithing. But as Rumplestiltskin looked at it a thought began to seep into his mind, between the cracks of despair and panic. [Run on]

_"It's the only way out of here alive."_

_"You're actions on the battlefield will leave your child fatherless."_

Rumple was frozen and unable move. If he was going to get out of here, he would have to do it quickly. He reached for the hammer numbly. He felt a swell of panic within him. Despite his fears, there was a strange sense of resolve. He had to do this. He'd left his family behind to fight for king and country, but what had that gotten them? Countless men were dead, and there were more Ogres coming by the week. Surely they would not miss one man with the reinforcements coming? He was hardly a soldier, and at any rate the seer had been _right_. He was to have a son, and wasn't it a man's duty to protect and provide for his family? Surely he could not be blamed for choosing his son over death. He had no father. He had no one to show him the way to be a man, and now he was stuck in a great divide as he struggled with the choice between death and suffering. In the back of his mind he knew that this would bring nothing but sorrow for his family, but wasn't it better to be there for them and to bear that shame than to leave his wife a widow and his child fatherless?

He began to weep over the anguish of the choice that really wasn't before him. He knew what had to be done. He lifted the hammer, the weight of his actions making him falter slightly. He looked at his leg, the strong, sturdy piece of flesh and bone. He couldn't fight if he couldn't walk, but he could sit and spin. As long as he had his hands, he didn't need his leg. He could survive without it. It was better than the alternative.

His hands shook as he lifted the hammer higher. His thoughts turned to Belle, and to his unborn child. The image of the three of them together was enough for him. With his mind made up, he closed his eyes. He felt sick and shameful, yet determined. This was the only way. He took a deep breath, summoned his courage, and swung.

He couldn't hear the crack of his bones for his screams.

~000~

Agda rushed in, a satchel bursting at the seams with tools and medicines in hand. She gave instructions to Maurice to boil water and gather towels, then she began to inspect Belle. Agda tsked as she ran her hands over Belle's head and stomach, and the girl cried out in pain.

Agda moved again, gently turning Belle onto her back and lifting her gown up to examine her. Agda glanced up at Belle, who was trying to ask questions, but Agda shushed her. "It's time, dear," she said softly, and Belle cried out in pain.

"I've got you, love," Agda cooed as she met Maurice at the door and took the bowl and towels from him. She shut the door and began making preparations. "You just trust me. I'll take care of you."

Belle nodded with gritted teeth, but she managed to ask what she needed to do. Agda chuckled. Even going into a difficult and early labor, Belle still asked questions.

"You just lie back and breathe," she said. "I'll tell you what to do when the time comes."

Belle nodded, and lifting her hand to wearily brush away her tears, she set her focus on delivering her child, and pushed thoughts of her husband and his fate out of her mind.

She lay there for hours. The pain continued to grow and caused her screams to grow louder too. Belle had never known such agonizing, terrible pain as this. When it became far too much for her to handle, Agda gave her a bit of cloth to bite down on. Belle balled her hands into fists, and her nails dug into her skin creating small, crescent moon cuts that bled onto the sheets, staining them with even more of her blood.

Agda encouraged her to push, and Belle did. Pain shot through her and made her cry out. She wanted Rumplestiltskin, and she cried out his name as if the word alone could summon him to her side. She wept for the lack of him and wished he were there to hold her hand and comfort her through the pain of delivering their child that he did not even know lived. Suddenly there was a pain that exceeded all others, and she screamed and cursed and breathed and pushed. Stars burst behind her eyes as the pain overtook her and for a moment she wanted it all to _end._

And then it did. The pain faded to a dull ache, and the pounding in her head lulled. Silence permeated the room, and for a moment Belle felt as if she might drift off to sleep. The silence was then broken with the sound of a slap and a baby began to squall unhappily.

Her baby.

Belle forced herself to open her eyes, and through the dizziness and exhaustion, she saw Agda holding a squiggling lump, trying to clean away the mess from the child's face. Belle watched in a daze as Agda did her work, cooing and humming as she did so. After what felt like an eternity of agonized waiting, Agda finally stepped forward and presented the child to Belle.

"A mother's intuition, indeed. Say hello to your son," she whispered softly, watching as Belle's eyes filled with tears at the sight of the tiny boy in her arms. She began to cry from the joy of seeing her child in her arms and from the agony of knowing that her husband was not here to witness this moment.

"He's beautiful," Belle whispered in awe. "He's perfect. Oh Agda, he's perfect!"

She began to cry again, laughing as she did so. She had never felt so many emotions take her at once. She was like a pot, full and boiling and ready to spill over. Her son was in her arms. He was tiny and precious, and as much as she loved her husband, as much as she adored and cherished him, she'd never felt such overpowering love as she did for the boy in her arms.

"It's only been a moment," she mused aloud, her exhaustion clouding her mind, "And yet I love you more than I can say."

Agda smiled and stroked Belle's sweat-soaked hair out of her face. "Welcome to motherhood, my dear," she whispered as Belle leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the child's forehead. "You'll do it splendidly."

Belle glanced up at the woman and asked, "Can my father come in? I'd like for him to meet his grandson."

"Of course, dear," Agda said indulgently. "But first let's make you presentable." She began to clean up, adjusting Belle so that she could remove the sheets and replace them. She gently washed Belle with a rag and some warm water, smiling softly as Belle refused to let go of her son. When all was clean and tidy, Agda retreated to summon Maurice.

The anxious grandfather hesitantly peeked his head in, and Belle glanced up with a smile and motioned him inside with her free hand. Maurice approached cautiously, and Belle moved over so that he could sit at her side.

"You have a grandson," she said, cooing as the baby began to fuss.

"And he's as handsome as his grandfather," Maurice said, trying to hide the quiver in his voice as he looked upon his daughter's child.

Belle laughed softly, and pressed another gentle kiss to her son's head.

"Do you know what you are going to name him?" Maurice asked, watching the child with unwavering interest.

Belle was silent for a long time. She'd thought long and hard about a name, but she had never been able to commit to one. She narrowed down the list to a few that she liked, but something within her had never let her choose. She wanted to wait for Rumplestiltskin, but it was too late for that. She would choose her son's name. She looked down at him with a smile and watched lovingly as he slept peacefully in her arms.

"Baelfire." She declared, "His name is Baelfire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, but I simultaneously want to squee because of BAE! and cry because of RUMPLE!
> 
> Thank you so much everyone who has reviewed this! Your favorites, follows, and reviews are truly touching and it always makes me smile to know you guys are enjoying this story!
> 
> Chapter 15 will be posted on the 24th! It might be a bit later in the evening, as I have an event to attend, but it will still be up!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time in any way. Agda and Adi belong to me.


	15. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He began to weep, tears spilling hard and heavy down his cheeks. He knew she was right; but how could he regret living?
> 
> "Do you wish I had stayed?" He asked solemnly.

Chapter 15: Homecoming

Rumplestiltskin woke up groggily, confused, and in pain. He tried to move, but he tensed when a sharp and unbearable pain shot through his leg. He bent over and emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor. He groaned and fell onto his back again as each movement causing another horrific burst of pain. He forced himself to lie still, though his mind was racing and trying to recall what happened. He remembered fear. He remembered pain. He remembered collapsing to the ground in agony, as his screams and cries drew attention from the soldiers still in the camp. He vaguely recalled being carried, but it began to grow muddled, and he couldn't seem to remember anything after that.

He knew that he'd blacked out at some point. The pain had been remarkable, and even still it was the worst thing he'd ever felt. His stomach rolled, and he fought back the bile that was rising in his throat. He was dizzy, and in pain, and he wanted nothing more than to wake up and find this to be yet another horrid nightmare.

This couldn't be real.

He drifted off again, his slumber restless. When he awoke to the painful sensation of someone touching his leg he cried out, and the man in question stopped and turned to face Rumple.

Rumplestiltskin recognized him as the physician. He noticed belatedly behind the physician stood his captain. Both men looked angry and weary, and their eyes held no sympathy. Rumplestiltskin let his head fall, a sense of guilt and horror weighing him down suddenly. He felt ashamed, and he could not bring himself to speak to the men staring hatefully at him. He waited, wondering if they would say anything, or if they would leave him in pain and ignorance.

"You did quite a job on this," the doctor said at last, his tone blank. "Your days of walking like a normal man are over."

He said nothing else for a long time. Rumplestiltskin wanted to ask what had happened. How many bones were broken? How damaged were the muscles? But his voice had vanished like his courage had the night before, and he could not say a word. He could only stare as the physician sat with a bowed head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"I've set your leg," he said at length, "I've done all I can do. It'll heal in its time." He stood and gave Rumplestiltskin a curt nod, "I would advise you not put any weight on it for some time. Now if you'll excuse me, I've others to see."

He turned, saluted the captain, and slipped out of the tent. Rumple waited for his captain to follow the man, but he made no such move. Instead he took a step forward, eyeing the pile of vomit on the floor with distaste. He glanced at Rumple again and the look in the captain's eyes was enough to make him tremble, and for a moment he wondered if the captain would order his death.

"Once you're well enough to get back on your feet, I want you gone. You're dismissed."

"Y-yes, sir," Rumple breathed.

The captain turned and stepped toward the exit. Rumple called out to him, stopping the man where he was, "T-the battle? What happened?"

The Captain stared hard at him for a long moment, saying nothing. At last he bowed his head. "They're dead."

The world around Rumplestiltskin froze. Dead. All those men. All those soldiers with whom he'd trained and fought. They were all dead. His breathing began to grow erratic, and his chest began to hurt from the pain he felt within. Tears began to slide down his cheeks, and he wound his arms around himself, rocking back and forth as he wept. His sobbing grew louder, his sorrow and relief covering him like a blanket. He was alive; the seer had been right. Had he gone on the battlefield, he would have been killed. But it was hard to feel grateful when the knowledge that all those men he'd come to consider comrades were gone.

Adi was gone.

It was a pain akin to losing his father. He loved Adi dearly and had foolishly entertained hopes of bringing the lad home and introducing him to Belle. He'd planned a life where he had a dear friend with whom he would share his triumphs. Adi had been kind and caring, and Rumple felt an overwhelming hatred rise up within him that he'd let his friend die without him.

But he had a son to go home to now. He could not begrudge his choice when he'd done it for his child. Exhausted, he slumped down on the pallet, the pain in his leg so constant and throbbing that he barely noticed it in his state, and fell into another fitful sleep. He dreamt of war and sorrow and loss. He dreamt that Belle's love withered and turned to hate. He dreamt that his son grew up to resent him. He dreamt that his sacrifice had been all for nothing.

~000~

Belle remained in her father's home for the week after Bae's birth. She fed, changed, and cooed over her son, unable to keep the tears away from her eyes as she gazed down into the child's deep brown eyes. He looked just like his father. She mused with a smile, and she bent down to press a kiss to the squirming boy.

Bae made a noise, and Belle laughed as she picked him up, cradling him carefully against her bosom. "We'll get to go home soon," she said in a light, lilting voice as she rocked her son back and forth, "And soon, Papa will be home. He'll be so surprised to see you!" She laughed at the thought, "Can you imagine, little Bae? Your Papa will walk inside and see you and ask, 'Who is that handsome fellow?' and I'll get to tell him, 'My dear, he's your son!' He'll faint on the spot, and you and I will tease him about it for _years_."

Bae blinked and stared at his mother, uncomprehending. He reached up with his tiny hand, and Belle let him grip one of her fingers. He squeezed with a surprisingly strong grip, and Belle sighed as she glanced away from him. "I just hope you Papa gets back soon. We've hardly heard anything about the war in months."

The front door burst open a moment later, startling both Belle and Bae. The boy began to cry, and Belle glanced up at her father in annoyance, "Papa!" She scolded, "You can't be so loud-" She paused when she saw his face. "Papa, what is it?"

He looked haunted, as if memories of horrors a lifetime ago had suddenly risen up within. He handed her an opened letter, and she carefully took it, balancing Bae as she did so. She read the letter, an official report from the King's Army, and her stomach sank at the words.

She read it twice over, words like _demolished, hopeless_ , and _dead_ hitting her like painful slaps. The entire troop had been killed, save a few generals and captains and some others who had remained at the camp. Belle's grip on Bae tightened, and she sank to her knees.

"No," she whispered, staring at the letter, her eyes dull and lifeless, "It can't be."

"Belle," Maurice said softly, kneeling down across from her. He gently took Bae from her, and she let him without argument. "There's more," he said, and his tone hinted at a great reluctance to tell her anything.

"How can there be _more_?" Belle asked softly.

Maurice sighed, "Word has begun to spread from the front. Apparently in the midst of the battle, there was a bit of a scandal…"

Belle blinked up at him, "A _scandal_?" she asked incredulously.

Maurice nodded, "Apparently one of the soldier's…bashed in his leg to keep from fighting. He's been dismissed with dishonor. He's been branded a coward."

Belle began to breathe heavily as understanding dawned. "Rumple," she cried, looking to her father pleadingly, begging him with tear-filled eyes to tell her she was wrong.

"They never said his name, but they referred to him as a small man; a spinner from our village. Not many people fit that description." Maurice sighed and reached out to his daughter, "I'm so sorry my dear."

Belle allowed her father to hug her, both of them cautious of the infant between them. Sensing their distress, Bae began to cry, but Belle made no move to comfort him, choosing instead to cling to her father, "But that means he's alive," she whispered brokenly, "Rumple is alive. He can come home."

At Maurice's silence, she pulled back. "Can't he, Papa?"

Maurice rested his hand on Belle's cheek, "He'll come home," he said, "But he brings home a great deal of shame with him."

Belle said nothing, instead reaching out to take her son. She absently bounced him and after a few moments the boy's cries turned into soft whimpers. Her father told her he was going to fix them some tea, but she remained quiet, lost in her thoughts. Maybe the reports were wrong, she thought. Maybe he hadn't done something so horrible to himself. Maybe he would come home in as good condition as he left.

But, she wondered as she glanced down at her son, who was so perfect and deserved so much more than his parents could ever give him, what would she say to her husband if he returned and the reports were _true_?

~000~

Rumple was restless. He'd been moved to a camp farther from the front to recover. He was treated with disdain and cruelty because no one believed he was worth the effort it took to care for him. No one was shy about their feelings toward him either. It was no secret to him that he was hated and reviled by everyone in the new camp. He hated and reviled himself. But he was on the mend, at least to the point of being able to walk, though with an impressive limp.

He recalled the first time he saw his leg after the incident. He'd pulled the sheet back from his bed after the captain left him with the devastating news of his comrades' deaths, and he retched on the spot. His leg was black with spots of purple and green splattered throughout. It was also crooked from the shattered bones and torn muscles. He looked bent and deformed, and his knee was flat and twisted. He was bound with wooden splints to help straighten him out, but he knew immediately that his leg was never going to work properly again.

When he was able to walk, which had taken time and a miracle, he began to hear the insults. The name 'coward' followed him all over the camp. Several times, Rumple had been tempted to just leave, screw the pain and ruin he would further cause his leg and just run until he was falling face first before Belle, begging her forgiveness. [Run on] He knew he would have to beg. He was not blind to the suffering that he'd caused his family. Belle would be pitied, and his child would be ridiculed. But it would be worth it, in the end.

It _had_ to be worth it.

In the end, he was driven out under cover of darkness and shame. The insults had become too much, and though he was in pain, the pain he felt in his heart over the loss of Adi and his desire to just _go home_ had finally pushed him to the point of no return. He'd heard others call him a coward, a name he associated with his father, but recently the insults had grown more vile. Men would share narratives of how they thought he should die, and while the others laughed, Rumple's stomach turned and he often found himself emptying himself of his supper behind the small, poorly constructed tent he slept in.

His focus was on his family, so he left without a word. Each step was agonizing, but he pushed through. He'd been away almost a year. It was time to go home.

~000~

In the days that followed the news of Rumple's act, Belle moved in a haze. She returned to her home, putting on enough pleasantries so as not to worry her father, but the moment he'd leave, she'd collapsed, crying and cursing and wishing she knew for certain what had happened. She hardly knew what to think; reports were not always reliable. Belle refused to believe Rumple would do something like this. He'd _wanted_ to go. He'd wanted to be brave and show everyone what he was capable of. She needed him here, to hold her and soothe her worries; to tell her that it was going to be fine. Because she _wasn't_ fine.

Grabbing Bae and bundling him up carefully, Belle slipped out of her home and made her way to Agda's, doing her best to ignore the looks the villagers she passed gave her. Agda was her friend; surely she would offer her counsel.

When Belle entered the hut, Agda looked up from the pot she was stirring. "I wondered when you might come by," she said in a motherly tone, waving Belle inside with her hand. She poured some tea for the two of them, then gently took Bae from Belle's arms. He began to squirm, and Agda cooed and bounced him. Her love of children was evident in the tender way she held him.

"I have no potions to soothe a breaking heart, love," she said after a moment, "The best cure for that is this one right here."

Belle nodded and took a sip of her tea. "I just don't want to believe it's true."

Agda hummed in response, "We never want to believe the worst in our husbands, love."

"I don't know what to think or what to feel. I don't know what I'll say to him when he does arrive. I feel so…"

"Confused?" Agda offered, and Belle nodded.

"Yes. I'm angry and hurt, and I just don't understand why he-"

"And you won't until he comes home and tells you what happened," Agda informed her. "Best to stop fretting over something you can't do anything about, and when the time comes, you'll know what to say."

Belle nodded, and breathed out in relief. "I've been so lost in my own head," she whispered, "thinking about what to say and what to do. I suppose I don't' really know what I'll do until I see him."

"Either hug his neck or break it," Agda said with a laugh. Belle blinked in surprise, but quickly her shock dissolved into a fit of giggles. They laughed together for a while, and the release was cathartic for Belle. After two more cups of tea and a half hour of Agda cooing over Baelfire, Belle returned home feeling more at ease than she had in months. Whatever happened, she would deal with it when the time came. Until then, she had a son to take care of.

~000~

Rumplestiltskin walked during the night and rested during the day, not wanting to be spotted by anyone who might inquire about his situation. He would get no pity from anyone. He walked for days, and the journey seeming much longer now that he was walking on a hobbled leg. It was painful work taking each step. His leg burned and ached and throbbed, but Rumple forced himself onward, knowing that soon it would all be over. He had no money and no food, but he scrounged up berries and drank from creeks. He slept on grass and propped his leg up on rocks. He didn't stop to bathe, though he smelled and his uniform was stained and torn.

He walked until he could no longer bear the pain, then he resorted to dragging his foot, leaning all his weight on the walking stick he carried. It slowed him down further, but he pressed on. When the pain became too great, he ripped off a piece of his uniform and wadded it up, sticking it in his mouth to bite down on. He broke out into a faster walk then, biting down hard when the pain nearly caused him to collapse. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, but he bit the cloth harder and kept going. He was almost home; he could feel it.

After another three days of agonizing walking, Rumplestiltskin saw the edge of his village and laughed. The pain was so constant he barely felt it anymore, and he broke out in a limped run. The thought of being _so close_ to Belle giving him a burst of energy.

He kept going, delirious and elated and desperate. There were only a few people out, and he brushed by them, oblivious to all but his family. He shouted Belle's name. It was the only thing that would fly from his lips. His voice broke, but he called out again, hardly able to believe that after all this time, he was home.

He reached the door and threw it open, his eyes desperately searching for his wife and child. Belle whipped around in surprise with her eyes wide and sharp as she stared at him. He needed her, so he stepped forward to reach for her, but his eyes rested on what she was holding in her arms.

"Rumple.."

"What's his name?" Rumplestiltskin gasped, the pain in his leg quickly overwhelming him now that his adrenaline was spent, and he sagged heavily against the wall. He pointed to the child again and asked breathlessly, "What's his name!?"

Belle's shock at seeing her husband in such a state was undermined by her wondering how he even knew about the child. She imagined so many reunions despite her attempts to think of anything else, but she hadn't thought of this.

"How do you know it's a boy?" She asked with concern, as he waved his hands frantically.

"Never mind that. What did you name him?!"

She couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips as she looked down at the child. "Baelfire. His name is Baelfire."

"A strong name!" Rumplestiltskin declared, pride shining through the pain in his eyes. He lost his balance then. His leg was no longer able to support him, and he collapsed on the nearest stool. He stretched his leg out in front of him, crying out as pain shot through him.

"He's going to need all the strength he can get," Belle whispered sorrowfully as she gazed down at Rumplestiltskin's leg. So it was true, then.

"What do you mean?" He asked suddenly feeling sick. He glanced around to see if there was a bucket in which he might retch, but there was nothing near enough for him to grab. He swallowed thickly and watched her with wide, frightened eyes.

"Is it true?" She asked as she placed the baby in the small basket that was his bed. She then turned and knelt before Rumplestiltskin, but did not touch him. "Did you do this to yourself? Did you injure yourself so you could come home?"

He gaped at her, wondering how she could possibly know that he'd done this to himself. She seemed to sense the question resting on the edge of his tongue and informed him, "News traveled from the front." She paused only a moment and then asked with a broken sob, "Why did you do this to yourself?"

He held his head down in shame. "A seer said you were with child."

She blanched and leapt to her feet. "You did this because a seer told you I was pregnant?" She asked. Her words held no malice, but he could tell she was angry.

"You don't understand," he said softly, swallowing the pain that was quickly overwhelming him. "She knew my name. She knew your name. She said you were with child. She said that when we rode in on cows that I would leave my child fatherless."

"Cows, Rumple?" Belle asked, staring at him in disbelief.

He glanced down to the floor, unable to look at her. "We received horses for the battle," He told her. "The captain told us to fetch our saddles. They're nicknamed cows because they're made from leather. We were going to ride cows into battle. That was when I knew the seer was telling the truth…"

He had never felt so foolish. It didn't matter that everything the seer had said had happened; he felt like a fool, and he deeply feared that when he looked up, he would find nothing but contempt in his wife's eyes. When he did look up at last, he was surprised to find no hatred in her eyes. Only sorrow. Only hurt.

"Belle, I-" he stammered, no longer sure of what he was thinking. He felt physically and emotionally drained, and the realization of what he'd done to his family was slowly starting to seep in through the pounding in his body.

"They're calling you a coward," she whispered, as she knelt back down in front of him. "Everyone says you did this because you were afraid; because you were just like your father." She sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. "I refused to believe it; but Rumple, you do realize that no matter what you say, no matter what you do, you have branded yourself - and this family - by this," she said, laying a gentle hand on his leg. He hissed in pain, and she removed her hand and stood once more, straightening out the wrinkles of her blue dress.

"Stay here," she commanded. Had things not been so glum he would have laughed. "I'm going to get some water for your leg. I'll be back." She turned back to the small basket and picked up their son who began to fuss. She gently placed the boy into her husband's arms. "Say hello to your son," she whispered. "I'll be back in a moment."

She grabbed the bucket that was next to the door and slipped out, but Rumplestiltskin hardly noticed. All his attention focused completely on the babe in his arms. His eyes filled with tears as he gazed down into the small yet wide eyes of his son who seemed to relax in his father's arms.

"Hello, Bae," he whispered in awe, "I'm your Papa, and I'm never going to leave you." The baby lifted a hand and wrapped his tiny fingers around Rumplestiltskin's nose. Rumple laughed gently, amazed at how much he loved this child, even after only knowing him a moment. He suddenly felt complete. A part of him that had always been empty now overflowed with warmth and love, and he knew that despite the fate he'd brought upon himself, he would do it again, if only for this precious moment.

Some time passed as he sat and cooed and talked to his son, and it was only after the babe began to doze that he lifted his head and realized that Belle had not returned. A sudden fear gripped his previously warm heart and wrapped it in a chill he hadn't felt in some time. He began to panic, but he could not move, not without disturbing his son and certainly not with his leg in the shape that it was. Belle would not abandon him and their child. He knew Belle and she was not one to run away from even the worst of problems.

He continued to fret, but his fears dissipated the moment the door opened a few minutes later. Rumple turned as best he could, and he relaxed when he saw Belle enter with a bucket of water. He watched in silence as she busied herself with pouring some water in the kettle and with placing it over the fire. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes were red and swollen, but she said not a word, putting all her focus on her task.

When the kettle whistled, she poured the hot water into a bowl, grabbed a rag, and trudged over to where Rumplestiltskin still sat. She placed the bowl at his feet and dropped the rag carelessly into the water. Leaning over Baelfire, she picked him up, rocking and humming to him in an effort to ease the transition. She placed him in his basket and tucked the roughly knit blanket around his tiny frame. Offering him a tender smile, she kissed him gently before turning and kneeling at her husband's feet. Rumple watched as she swirled the cloth in the water before lifting it to ring it out. He hesitated for a moment, then bent over and struggled to roll up his pants leg and remove his boots. When he heard Belle gasp at the sight, he shut his eyes in shame.

"You need a doctor!" She declared, dropping the rag. She stood, as if she were going to rush out to fetch him now, but Rumple grabbed her arm, stilling her.

"Not tonight," he whispered. "I'll last another night."

Belle stood still for a long moment, unsure whether to do as he wished or fetch the doctor regardless. He looked at her pleadingly, and she sighed. Kneeling back down in front of him, she reached out and gently brushed her fingertips over his knee. "Why would you do this to yourself?" She asked, though he sensed that she was not directly speaking to him.

"I don't know," he said weakly, "The thought of our child growing up without his father was not something I could allow." He took her hand in his to stop her from wiping away the dirt and grime from his leg.

"You grew up without a mother, and I grew up without my father. We know the pain of not having a parent. I just… I had to make a choice. I could either fight and die in the name of the king, or I could flee and live in the name of love. I may be a coward, but I will bear the name if it means my son can have a father and my wife can have a husband."

She grasped his hand tightly and held it up to her cheek, nuzzling against his palm. "But you should also know the pain and hardship of growing up with a father who was branded a coward," she protested. "I did not know your father, but I know you. I know that you're brave and that you are a wonderful husband. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, but Rumplestiltskin, you've damned your child to the same fate you so desperately wanted to save him from."

He began to weep, tears spilling hard and heavy down his cheeks. He knew she was right; but how could he regret living?

"Do you wish I had stayed?" He asked solemnly.

"I don't know what I wish," she admitted after some time. "I'm angry; I can't deny that. I wish you'd thought for one moment before acting so rashly!" She paused and sighed, "But I am certainly relieved that I will not be a widow." She sighed and released his hand so that she could resume washing his leg.

"I know that others would say it would be better that you had died. There is glory and honor in a soldier who comes home on his shield, but I would be a liar if I said I'm not overjoyed that you're home. It doesn't seem real," she admitted as she rang out the rag again. "I just wish the circumstances were different."

"It will do nothing," Rumplestiltskin said at length, "But I _am_ sorry for what I've done to this family."

She dropped the rag into the bucket and leaned over to kiss his wounded leg with tender lips.

"As am I," she agreed. She looked up at her husband and offered him the first smile since he stepped through the door. "But, by the gods, I'm so glad you're here." She reached up and kissed him, her tears wetting their cheeks and he brought his arms around her, sobbing as she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

He pulled away with a sigh and let his hands slide down her sides. "I love you," he whispered brokenly. "I'm a fool, but I love you."

"I love you, too," She said as she stood, offering him her hands. "Come on," she said as she helped him stand. "You should rest. We will continue this conversation in the morning. And I need to fetch the doctor to look at you. But for now I just want to sleep in my husband's arms."

He positioned himself in their bed, careful of his leg. She checked on their son, and when she was content that he would not wake any time soon, she joined Rumplestiltskin. Mindful of his leg, she curled up close to him, and he wrapped himself around her as best he could.

Sleep did not come easy for either of them, the weight of their future heavy and stifling, but they took solace in knowing that they would not suffer alone. The years to come would not be easy, but Rumplestiltskin had faith. He had his wife and his child, and for him that would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the chapter that everyone has been worried about! I hope you all are pleased with Belle's response. :-)
> 
> And thank you for your response to last week's chapter! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!
> 
> Chapter 16 will be up Jan. 31!
> 
> A big thank you to both sirensong24 and my husband for looking over this and correcting my errors!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time in any form. The quotes featured in this chapter are from the episode "Manhattan" and I claim no ownership over them. I do own Agda.


	16. On Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ll get through this,” he declared. “As long as you’re on my side, I’ll be able to take on anything that comes my way.”

Chapter 16: On Your Side

It had to have been a dream.

Rumplestiltskin woke feeling groggy and delirious. All he could remember were long nights of painful walking and a determination to return home. He shifted slightly, absently admiring how comfortable he felt. He hadn’t been this comfortable in nearly a year. He sighed, gripping the warm blanket closer to him and began to drift back to sleep. He’d been having the most pleasant dream. He was home with Belle, and their son was healthy, bright, and perfect. He wanted to go back to that. And then he heard the distinct sound of a baby crying and a familiar voice shushing and cooing the fussy child. His eyes snapped open.

It wasn’t a dream. He was home.

He rolled over to address Belle, but the pain in his leg hit him so suddenly that he couldn't help but gasp in shock. Worried, Belle looked up from nursing their son. When she saw that he was more or less fine, she offered him her best smile. 

"Good morning," she whispered with her voice sounding hoarse. Her eyes were puffy still, and he wondered just how many tears she'd shed over him. He was still very weak, but he pushed himself out of bed and leaned against the wall where the bed rested. He regarded her warily, knowing all too well that their discussion from the night was not over.

"Good morning, sweetheart,” he replied. It was hardly a good morning. Never mind that he was home with his family. The morning was only going to bring about more pain and humiliation. Word had managed to get back to the village of what he'd done. Now that he was here to confirm everyone's suspicions, things were only going to get worse. He recalled how people had treated him after word began to spread about his useless father. His family had been ostracized and cast out, and it was only the lowliest of lives that ever seemed to welcome his father into their midst, until they too turned on them.

Belle stood, careful not to jostle the baby and approached him slowly, as if he were a caged animal that might strike if alarmed. She settled on the bed, turning to sit snugly against her husband's side. They said nothing, instead opting to watch their child at her breast, feeding happily and unaware of the turmoil his parents were to face.

Rumplestiltskin lifted his hand and let it rest on Belle's thigh tentatively. He stroked his fingers up and down her leg, wishing he were better at comforting her. They'd been so new in their marriage that they hardly had time to truly get to know each other before he'd been swept off to war. Now he was back, and he felt as if he'd come home a stranger. He wasn't the man Belle had wed. She’d married the son of a coward. Now she was married to the _coward_ himself, and his child was the ‘son of’. He carried his curse to the battlefield intent on leaving it there, but instead he drug it back home and presented it for his son to bear instead. He did not deserve to be a father.

He sighed and looked away from Bae. He had no right to this life, he thought bitterly. He had done nothing to deserve a wife and child, and now he deserved them even less. Bae stirred and began to fuss, almost as if he could sense his father’s sudden dark mood. Belle sighed heavily as she rocked him, whispering words of comfort that felt forced. Rumple watched as Belle cared for their son. The child responded to her voice eagerly as his whimpers soon died down as he listened to his mother speak. It came as a surprise to Rumplestiltskin to find he felt jealous of the bond between mother and son. He was absent for everything. He’d not seen her face when she discovered she was pregnant. He’d not watched her grow or her stomach expand as their child grew. He was not there to hold her hand as she cried in pain as she delivered their son into the world. Mother and son already had bonded deeply. It was clear. He felt he hardly knew the boy in his wife’s arms, and to some extent he realized that despite their courtship and few months of marriage, he hardly knew her either.

Finally, Baelfire began to doze, and it was only then that Belle looked at her husband.

"What are we going to do?" She asked, and it did not surprise him that she didn't dance around the subject.

He shook his head and stared at his hands. "I don't know."

She stood and placed their son in his small basket then rounded on her husband. "Well, we don't have time to sit around and mope," she said, and her voice was hard. She'd clearly planned this conversation. It seemed that she knew what she wanted, and he only hoped that she still wanted him.

"I agree," he said softly, "But I must confess I hadn't planned anything after getting back to the two of you. I’m open to suggestions."

Belle sat heavily on the chair next to the basket. "Well we only have two options," she said matter-of-fact.

He raised an eyebrow, unsure of what those options could be. "And they are..." he prompted.

She gave him a look that suggested it should be obvious what their options were, but expounded anyway. "We can leave the village and start somewhere new," she began, "Or we can stay and deal with this as best we can."

There was silence for several moments before Rumple spoke, "There is a third option."

Belle raised her eyebrow. "I'd love to hear it."

"You could go to the village council and ask to grant you a divorce."

Belle's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. "You want to divorce me?" She asked, her voice soft but full of hurt.

He shook his head. "I should think you would want to divorce me," he said gesturing between them with his hands. "I certainly wouldn't blame you for it. No one would."

Belle stood from her seat, and Rumplestiltskin winced in fear. Anger swirled around her like flames, and he hadn’t seen such passion and ferocity in her eyes since their encounter with Wilmar at the beginning of their courtship. She approached him quickly, her face set in a hard scowl, and she leaned down to grasp his face in between her hands.

"Don't you ever suggest I leave you again," she growled, and he nodded silently. "I promised to be with you forever, and I do not care what you've done or what you will do. I am with you until the end. I am your wife and the mother of your child, and I will not abandon you."

She let go of his face and stepped back to look down at him. "You're a fool," she said before sighing heavily and sitting down on the bed. "But you're my fool." She moved her hand to pull back the blanket that covered him, staring down at the mutilated flesh of his leg. "You did this so you could be here, for us and with us. What sort of wife would I be if I left a man who gave up so much to come back to me?"

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "I abandoned my brothers," he whispered, ashamed. "Everyone that rode out that day died. Except me." His head drooped, and the tears came. He hadn’t had a chance to mourn the loss of all those who had gone out and had not come back. He wept hard as he began naming all the men who were killed by the ogres, listing their names and rank. He'd left all those men to die. "I wasn't worth saving. I'm not worth your kindness or your love. I'm a coward, and I deserve to rot for what I've-"

He was silenced by Belle's lips pressed hard against his. She tasted like salt from the tears they both shed, and his hatred for himself only grew with the knowledge that he made her weep so much. He wished he could wipe away her sadness the way he wiped away her tears, but no amount of apologies or kisses or remorse would ever banish the sorrow that had buried itself within them. They were tainted by Rumplestiltskin’s actions, and their family now carried the stain of cowardice and desertion upon their backs.

"You may not be worth it to anyone else," she said, not bothering to use empty words for comfort. Belle despised empty words and only said what she knew to be true. It was a truth they both had to acknowledge, that no one would ever see his worth again. "But I see it. I see your worth. I see a man who deserves love. I see a man whom I don't fully understand, but I want to. But you can't push me away. We're going to be alone because of this, so we're going to have to hold onto each other. You can’t push me away, and I can’t keep you at arm's length. We have to be open and honest with each other. I'm not happy about what you've done, but I'm certainly not going to leave you when I know you did it for us. I can't harden my heart to something like that."

He gazed at her in awe. How had he managed to find someone as wonderful as Belle? She had every right to leave him, and he was certain she would be encouraged to; but here she was, gripping him tightly and declaring that she would not even consider divorce when he knew that any other woman would have slipped off in the night and not looked back. How did the cursed manage to be so blessed?

He lifted his hand to caress her cheek, and he was relieved when she leaned into the touch. She waited only a moment, so as not to make him think she was rejecting him, then stood. She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders while Rumplestiltskin watched her curiously from the bed. Lifting the basket that held their son, she moved it to the bed, smiling at the boy before lifting her eyes to Rumplestiltskin. "I'm going to fetch the doctor," she said, and he frowned.

"You're leg is damaged, and you walked who knows how far on it. It's probably damaged further, and you are not to move until I return. Do you understand?"

He was in no position to argue. He wouldn't have even if he disagreed with her, so he simply nodded. She seemed satisfied with his silence and leaned over the basket to press a kiss to Baelfire's head. "He should sleep for a while, but if he wakes, just hold him and bounce him gently. He likes it when he's sung to, so you might try that as well."

She walked around the bed and pressed a kiss to Rumplestiltskin's head before she was gone.

Rumplestiltskin looked down at the basket next to him. Baelfire lay sleeping inside with his tiny hands thrown haphazardly over his face. He had a small patch of hair, which was enough for Rumplestiltskin to see that he had inherited his mother's curls. It was a beautiful thing to see that part of her in his son, to know that this child was a product of their love and devotion to one another. It was a devotion Rumplestiltskin had sacrificed everything for, and as he watched his son sleep peacefully, he could not bring himself to regret it. No, this was worth everything.

He reached out with his left hand and gently touched his son's cheek. The baby stirred but did not wake. Instead Baelfire reached up to grab at the disturbance, and it amazed Rumplestiltskin to feel his son's strong grip. Baelfire slept on, unaware that he was holding onto his father's finger, and Rumplestiltskin cherished the moment. In this moment there was no sorrow or sadness. There was only a father with his son, and it was a tenderness that Rumplestiltskin was unfamiliar with. His father had not been gentle or kind and it always resonated with Rumplestiltskin that his father had never treated him much like a son. He cared, to be sure, but he hadn't cared enough to stay. But that was where he and his father differed. His father couldn't afford to stay. Rumplestiltskin couldn't afford to stay away.

He hoped his son would find the right balance. He hoped that someday, many years down the road when he had a child of his own, he would not have to make the same choices and mistakes that haunted his family. He hoped his son had a future that did not require him to run from something.

Finally, the boy awoke, blinking curiously up at his father. He did not cry or make a sound, but instead observed the man that sat above him. Rumple looked closely at his son, taking in the features he had not been able to see last night. He lifted his eyes to meet his son’s, and his breath shook as he saw his own eyes staring back at him. Belle's hair and his eyes made for a beautiful child.

He reached over, careful of his leg which had not ceased throbbing since he awoke, and picked up the boy. Cradling him gently he brought his son to rest at his chest, bouncing the boy and cooing lightly at him. He smiled as the baby looked up at him with wide brown eyes, watching him with the purest innocence Rumplestiltskin had ever seen. He wished he could freeze time so that his tiny, perfect boy would never change and lose the innocence that he'd been born with. These brown eyes had not seen sorrow or poverty, war or death. These eyes had not wept for anything other than his supper, and those eyes had not seen the horrors the world had to offer. He wanted to protect those eyes that were so like his and to prevent those eyes from ever growing dark and cold from the harshness of the world, and it grieved him to know that he wished in vain.

It was some time later that Belle returned. Rumplestiltskin blinked in surprise when a woman dressed in black entered with her head covered in a scarf and a large leather satchel at her side. He vaguely knew who the doctor was, and it was not this woman. He glanced at Belle curiously and she explained.

“Rumple, this is Agda. The midwife. She delivered Bae and is going to look after you.”

“Was the physician not available?” Rumple asked, wincing when Belle looked away, her eyes pained.

“He wouldn’t come.”

It was already beginning, Rumple thought idly, before Agda’s pleasant voice rang through the air, “Yes, well, he was always an old codger. I may not be able to do all he does, but if I can bring a child into this world, I’m certain I can do most anything. I’d like to see that man do what I do at any rate.”

Belle stifled a giggle, and Rumple watched as the two women worked together to prepare some medicine. It seemed Belle had made a friend in his absence.

Agda turned at last, holding a bowl in her hand and observed Rumplestiltskin stretched out on the bed, his son in his arms. “So, you’re the Spinner?” She said with a laugh. “I’ve seen you before, but never close up.” She turned back to Belle and grinned wickedly, “His leg may be useless, but at least he’s handsome.”

Rumple blushed, and Belle smiled, moving to the bed to take Bae from him. Bae whimpered at being disturbed, but Belle was quick to quiet the boy, giggling when she made him laugh. Agda watched her for a moment then asked, “He’s feeding well?”

Belle nodded. “Yes. I haven’t had a problem so far.”

Agda was pleased. “Good.” She turned back to Rumple. “Now, let’s take a look at you.” She pulled the cover back, her face showing no sign of revulsion at the mangled leg. Instead, she ‘tsked’ and gently touched the flesh. He hissed in pain, and she glanced up. “You did a number on yourself, I’ll give you that.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded meekly, not meeting her eyes. Adga sighed and gripped his chin. “Oh come, now. I’ve seen worse. We all know what happened, but the three of us have the advantage of knowing the whole story. I say I agree with those who think what you did was _stupid_ , but I’ve seen how much my dear girl misses you, and I certainly can’t begrudge a man who loves someone else enough to do this to himself. Though you might have been better to just cut the damn thing off. Would have healed better, at least.”

Agda turned to grab a few more things out of her bag, and Rumple shot Belle an amused look. Belle smiled. “Agda’s rather blunt when she needs to be.”

“I’m always blunt, love,” she said simply, pulling out a small knife. “You just don’t need to hear it as much as others.”

Agda turned and instructed Rumple to grip the bed sheets. He did, and without prompt or warning, she sliced a small incision into his leg. Rumple cried out, his eyes snapping shut from pain. After a moment, he peeked out of one eye to see Agda soaking up the blood with a rag. “It was swelling,” she informed them, “Need to bleed you out a bit before we continue.” Rumple nodded in understanding and watched her work, trying to stay as still as possible. Belle continued to hold Bae, fetching things out of the bag when instructed by Agda.

Finally, after rubbing some herbs and medicines on the leg and dressing the wound, she pulled out a book and handed it to Rumple. “This device will help you walk,” she said simply. “I can have one made for you, if you’d like. I may not be the physician, but it doesn’t take much to know that you will never truly walk again. Not without a limp. You’ll need a stick, too. A sturdy one.”

Rumple nodded, “I have one.”

Agda nodded, seeming pleased. “Good. I’ll make sure this brace gets made and delivered to you as fast as possible. For now, I suggest you stay in bed and not move your leg at all.” She stood and began to clean up her mess. “I’ll come check on you again soon.”

She handed Belle a bowl and a couple vials. “Rub these on his leg every morning and night,” she instructed before shaking a different vial, “And have him drink three drops of this in a cup of water if the pain becomes too great. He’ll sleep like the dead.”

Belle nodded in understanding and placed the vials on the table. She then escorted Agda out before returning inside. She offered Rumple a sad smile, and he beckoned her to him.

“She’s something,” he said as Belle sat at his side. Rumple took Bae from her arms, and Belle smiled as she watched them. Bae fell asleep a few minutes later, his father’s gentle rocking enough to soothe him, and Rumple looked up with a sigh. “Perhaps we should leave,” he said softly. “If only for his sake.”

Belle glanced down. “I don’t want to leave Papa,” she admitted. “Not now, after his grandson is here.”

"What does your father think of his son-in-law?"

Belle gave him a pitying stare. "He’s upset. Worried. But he loves Baelfire dearly. He would be more willing to forgive this than if you were to take away his grandson."

Rumplestiltskin nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. He winced as his leg ached, and Belle looked on with sadness. How could she comfort him? She was in need of solace herself, but it was clear that her husband would sink to the depths of despair if she did not strive to keep them both afloat. It was almost easier to sink, she thought idly. It seemed easier to allow the grief and pain to swallow her and to wrap her in its bitter warmth, but she could not do that. Not now. This was no time for pity and misery. There were sheep to feed, wool to shear, chores to be done. A baby to raise. A husband to love. She couldn't succumb to her grief now. She would offer her comfort and take comfort where she could. They would have to share the comfort of their child, who offered more than he realized. She crawled onto the bed and curled back up against him, holding him as tightly as she could. He wrapped one arm around her waist, cradling her as gently as he cradled their child.

"Are we going to be okay?" She asked eventually, no longer able to keep silent. To be silent was to be a slave to her thoughts, and at present her thoughts were dark and uninviting.

Rumplestiltskin sighed. "I don't know."

"You know I'm not going to leave you, right?"

He hoped she wouldn’t. He feared she would, someday. "I do," he said, in spite of his fear.

She nodded against his chest. "Good."

~000~

The door opened a few days later, causing Belle and Rumple to look up in surprise. Maurice entered tentatively, bringing a basket that carried the delicious smell of hot bread and meat. Belle rushed to meet her father, and he sat the basket down in exchange for his grandson. Wrapping the boy in his arms, he smiled at Bae as the child cooed at the familiar face of his grandfather. Rumple motioned for Belle, who rushed to help him stand. They managed to get a routine going in the past few days. Belle had pulled the spinning wheel closer and helped Rumple hobble from the bed to his seat. His leg would be propped up on a small bench while he sat and spun wool for hours. It was a relief, to do something familiar and productive. Soon they would have enough wool to send to market, and a semblance of normalcy was exactly what they both needed.

Belle helped Rumple stumble over to the bed, and he sat back with a groan, stretching his leg out in front of him. Maurice did not seem fazed by the bandage and mangled flesh that peeked out about his knee. He was a man of the sword himself, and he had seen much worse injuries in his time.

Something in Maurice filled with anger at seeing his daughter in such a position, and before either Belle or Rumple could speak, Maurice growled, “How could you do this to yourself? To Belle?” 

Belle was quick to jump between them. “Papa!"

He seemed to calm down at his daughter’s voice and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head. He opened his mouth to speak but Rumple interrupted.

“No, it’s all right,” he said, glancing at Maurice. “I’ve made Belle’s life hard, and as her father, I’m sure this was the last thing you ever wanted for her. To be tied to the village coward.” He sighed and shifted, struggling to stand. Belle rushed to help him, but he held his hand out to stop her. Leaning heavily on the walking stick he had, he stood and faced his father-in-law.

“You’re one of the few people who understands both sides of this,” he said, gesturing to his leg. “You’ve seen the horrors. You lost men; friends. You know that glory is more important to some than anything else.” He turned slightly to rest his eyes on Belle. “But I couldn’t leave her. Not for anything in the world. I know what I did was wrong. It grieves me to know that my family will bear my shame. But I could not abandon my wife. I would up everything for her.”

Belle’s eye brimmed with tears, and he looked away, feeling overcome with emotion. He risked a look at Maurice, whose face was still stern. 

“I only want what’s best for my daughter,” Maurice said with a sigh, “And right now I’m not convinced that’s you.” Belle blanched, but Maurice continued, “As a former soldier, I cannot look upon what you did with anything less than contempt and disgust.” Rumple winced at the words, but Maurice continued, “But as a fellow husband and father, I cannot look upon what you did with anything less than awe and understanding.”

Both Belle and Rumple’s eyes shot up to meet his with surprise. Maurice glanced down and smiled at his grandson. “I would do anything for my family,” he said softly, “I resigned from the King’s Army when I found out my wife was pregnant.” He glanced up at Rumplestiltskin knowingly, “A true man would do anything for his family, and for that I cannot blame you.” He stood tall and stepped toward Rumple, leaning down so they were face to face. “But know that if you ever do _anything_ to hurt my daughter or grandson, I will make you wish the Ogre’s had taken you.”

Swallowing thickly, Rumplestiltskin nodded. “I would rather die than hurt her.”

Maurice stood and looked at him sorrowfully. “You’ve already hurt her,” he said despairingly. “See that you don’t do it again.”

He turned and handed Belle her son and gestured to the basket. “I have some work to do,” he said gently, “But I wanted to make sure you three were all right. There’s bread, meat, and cheese in here. It isn’t much, but it was all I could do.”

“It’s wonderful, Papa. Thank you.” He nodded and gave Belle a hug. She offered to walk him outside, and they slipped out the door. Maurice stood still for a moment before turning to Belle. She didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I know what I’m doing,” she said firmly. “I chose him, and I will always choose him. Nothing anyone says will deter me.”

“I know, my girl. But you know this will not be easy-“

“I’m well aware of the hardships we will face,” She said with a huff, “I’ve already faced them, but this is _my_ life. No one decides my fate but me, and I will not let the ignorance of others stand in the way of my happiness.”

“And you’re certain he’s your happiness?” Maurice was nothing but concerned, and Belle could not fault him for it. She felt the same concern and the same desire to protect her son from the cruelness of this world as her father did for her.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” she swore, and Maurice could say nothing else. He hugged his daughter once more. Placing a kiss on her cheek and smiling lovingly at Bae. Then he was gone. Belle returned inside, sagging against the door with a sigh.

“He had every right to say those things,” Rumple said softly, “I hope you weren’t too hard on him.”

“I said what needed to be said,” she replied, moving to sit next to Rumple who had returned to the bed. “He understands, but I wanted to make sure he understood me. I think he does.”

“What did you say?” Rumple asked curiously.

“I told him, I’ll tell you, and I’ll tell anyone else who feels they have a right to know. It’s my life. I’ll decide what I do, and with whom I spend it.”

He lifted a hand to rest on her knee. “You decide your own fate,” he said. “And why you chose to share it with me, I’ll never understand.”

“You don’t enjoy being questioned about your reasons for injuring yourself,” she snapped, “And I don’t want to be questioned about my reasons for choosing you. So let’s just drop it.”

He squeezed her knee. “I love you.”

She sniffed as tears began to fall, and she brushed them away before they could fall onto her son. “And I love you.”

“We’ll get through this,” he declared. “As long as you’re on my side, I’ll be able to take on anything that comes my way.”

“I’m on your side, Rumple,” Belle whispered, leaning closer to him. “I’m always on your side.”

~000~

The next day Rumplestiltskin made his way down to Ebert's stall, basket in one hand and staff in the other. Agda had brought the brace for him, and though it was painful, squeezing his leg in an effort to keep it straight so that he could walk, he was grateful for it. Belle had tried to persuade him to let her go to the market but Rumple had insisted. It wasn’t too far to Ebert’s stall, and he wanted to get out of the house. At any rate, Baelfire was fussy, and it was no secret to either of them that Belle was better and soothing the grumpy boy than he was. Bae had grown to love his father, but the bond he shared with his mother was undeniable.

The trip was short, but he took his time, walking slowly as he adjusted to the strange sensation of having the brace. People pushed around him as they walked hurriedly from one stall to the next causing Rumple to trip and stumble on several occasions. Finally, he made it to Ebert's stall, where the man sat picking his teeth with a knife. Rumple offered up his basket expectantly, frowning when Ebert ignored him.

"I-I'm here to sell wool," Rumplestiltskin said softly. Ebert scoffed.

"I ain't buyin' today."

Rumplestiltskin blinked. "What?"

"You heard me, cripple," Ebert said, leaning forward with a snarl. "I ain't buyin'."

"But-but I have perfectly good wool," Rumple protested, holding out the basket for Ebert to see. The man growled and slapped the basket out of Rumplestiltskin's hands. The wool fell to the ground and came unwound. Rumple gaped at the mess then back at Ebert.

"I don't understand."

Ebert leaned over and poked his finger hard in Rumple's chest. "I ain't buying' from the likes of you," he said, leaning closer to Rumplestiltskin. "Yer a coward, and you ain't fit to take my money. And I ain't takin' yer wool!"

He stood back and pointed to the wool on the ground. "Take yer garbage and get outta my sight, ya good for nothin' coward."

Rumple, fighting back tears, bent down as best he could to pick up the wool. His leg throbbed, causing him to hiss in pain. Ebert offered no assistance, instead he pointed and laughed at Rumplestiltskin's struggle. "You shoulda done us all a favor and died," he hissed as Rumplestiltskin stood, clutching the basket in his arms. "Everyone would've been better off. ’Specially yer wife. She's gotta be ashamed of being stuck to the likes of you. Shame she can't leave ya. Doubt anyone else'd want her." 

Rumplestiltskin glared and took a step forward, lifting his cane slightly. Ebert sensed the challenge and moved closer. "Oh what? You gonna come at me? I'd like to see you try, cripple." With that he pushed Rumplestiltskin, causing him to topple over onto his back and cry out in pain as his leg surged in agony. No one within sight of the incident offered to help, leaving Rumplestiltskin to struggle and stumble onto his feet. He grabbed the basket and limped back to his house, tears stinging his eyes the whole way. 

When he made it inside, he was disappointed to find Belle waiting for him, cuddling with Baelfire and cooing patiently as he fussed tiredly. He was on the verge of sleep, and his cries were becoming softer. Belle looked up with heavy eyes when Rumple entered, her expression growing concerned as she saw the state her husband was in. Giving Bae a kiss, she gently laid him down as his grunts of discontent quickly turning to soft snores of sleep, and she rushed to her husband's side. "What happened?" 

He brushed her off and threw the basket of wool onto the floor, sitting heavily at his spinning wheel. Belle was not so easily deterred, and she knelt at his feet, clasping his hand in hers. "What happened," she asked again, and Rumplestiltskin broke down. Clinging to her, he wept, but Belle remained silent, holding him tightly and rubbing her back with her hand. She was exhausted, but her men needed her, and she would not wish for sleep when they reached out to her for care.

"I'm here," she cooed just as she had for her son earlier. Rumple continued to cling to her, and Belle shifted, rising onto her knees so that she could hold him better.

"He wouldn't take the wool," he whispered bitterly as he moved away slightly. "He refused to buy it. He told me he would not buy from a coward who was better off dead. He shoved me down and said he pitied you for being stuck with me."

He could see the anger rise up in Belle's eyes as he spoke. She remained quiet, which was unusual for her. Normally she had no qualms about expressing her thoughts, but now she was silent. Rumplestiltskin didn't know which frightened him more.

She stood, collecting the wool that had fallen out of the basket. Picking it up, she pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "Watch Bae," she ordered gently. "I'll be back in a minute."

She was out the door before he could protest. 

-000-

Belle walked with purpose toward the end stall of the market. She’d dealt with Ebert a few times during Rumple’s absence, and while the man disgusted her, she held no fear of him and was determined to give him a piece of her mind. Her husband had worked hard to spin this wool and she _would_ sell it. She stormed up to the stall and slammed the basket down on the counter. "And what was wrong with the wool?" She asked, not attempting to hide her fury.

Ebert, fool that he was, did not take her anger to heart. "I told yer husband that I ain't buying his shite today."

Belle placed her hands on her hips. "You always buy our wool," she declared. "If the Ogre's continue to advance, you won't be able to travel and trade. And if you're stuck with only us to provide your wool, what then?"

Ebert shrugged. "Then I guess I'd buy if I had no other choice." 

Belle smirked. "That's where you're wrong," she said. "If you don't buy now, while the wool is good, what makes you think I'd willingly sell to you when you have no one else to turn to? Especially after how you treated my husband."

"Did the cripple run home and beg you to come back on his behalf?" Ebert sneered.

"He didn't say a word," Belle said. "I know what a basket full of wool means. It means that you’ve chosen today to show off your disgusting, ignorant contempt for others."

Ebert glared. "You best watch yourself, girl," he hissed, "Or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Belle countered immediately. "You aren't going to strike me. They'd have you in chains in a minute. You can cuss me and call me all the names you want, but I have good wool to sell and you're going to pay us for it and let me get back to my sick son, or I'll spread word that you're a lying, cheating scam of a merchant who refuses to buy from the poor wife of a lame man. Do you think people would want to support a man who would rather see a child starve than to get over his own prejudice and give me what we both know is worth at least twenty shillings? People may not care for my husband now, but they sure as hell _pity me_. And pity is something I can work with.” 

He growled, not liking the fact that a woman had dared speak to him in such a manner. He was about to retort, but a crowd was growing, and it was no secret that Belle had a mind of her own and would not hesitate to use her words against him. Grumbling and snarling, he counted out twenty shillings and handed them to her. She paused a moment and said, "I think," she mused aloud, "That for wasting both my and my husband’s valuable time, I should be compensated. Five more shillings should do it."

She stood firm, and the crowd was growing. Desperate to get rid of her, Ebert shoved five more shillings in her hand. She smiled and picked up her basket, dumping the wool out onto the counter. "Pleasure doing business," she said with false cheer, turning on her heel and walking briskly past the crowd and back home.

When she returned, Bae was still asleep, and Rumple was standing over his small basket, watching the boy carefully. He looked up when Belle entered like a whirlwind. She glanced around until she saw him, threw down the empty basket and slammed the money onto the table. She stalked up to her husband and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down roughly so that his lips crashed onto hers. He was taken aback by her ferocity, but could not hide his approval and gathered her into his arms as best he could as she moved her mouth against his. When they broke away, breathless and chests heaving, Rumple gave her a curious look. "What was that about?"

She took a deep breath and kissed him again. "We shouldn’t be having any more trouble from Ebert," she said hotly, pulling him closer to her so she could rest her head against his chest.

"I'd love to know what you said."

He felt her shake her head. "Doesn't matter what I said," she replied. "I told him what he needed to hear, and now I'll do the same for you." She raised her head and smiled at him gently, though her eyes still burned hot. "You are my husband. I am your wife. I am not _stuck_ with you and I do not pity either of us. If anyone has a problem with that, they can go to the Ogres."

Rumplestiltskin smiled widely, then pulled her close for another kiss. She held onto him tightly, and he suddenly felt the complete assurance that no matter what happened to him, he could always could on Belle to be on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm so glad you are enjoying it so far! 
> 
> A big thanks to Sirensong24 and my husband for looking this over! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. I do own Agda.


	17. All Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With each day that passed, Bae grew. Whether taller, smarter, or more mischievous, Bae seemed to change every day, picking up new habits and words.

Chapter 17: All Better

 

Time went on as it does, and Rumplestiltskin found himself adjusting to his life as best he could in the months that followed his return. He no longer ventured into the village if he could help it. The sneers and stares of others were too much for him to bear. Instead he stayed home, spinning wool and taking care of his son while Belle ventured into the village to take care of business. People were cordial to her since the incident with Ebert was fresh in their minds. No one doubted Belle would not stand up for herself or her husband, so they kept their whispers low, waiting until they'd finished business with her before letting their unkind thoughts slip. Belle paid them no mind, though. She knew who her friends were, and though they were few, they were loyal.

Agda was one such friend. Belle relied on the woman for medicine to keep Rumple's pain at a minimum. She visited frequently to obtain herbs and medicines, but soon the visits lengthened. Belle took solace in having someone that wasn't her father, husband, or son to talk to. Agda embraced Belle as a daughter and an apprentice of sorts. She taught Belle how to mix herbs and how to put to practical use all the information she'd read over her pregnancy, and Belle was eager to learn. She enjoyed the challenge, and it gave her something else to think about other than the cruel words of others.

Bae's grandfather was another blessing. Maurice came by often; his love for his grandson was abundant. And Bae loved his grandfather as well, laughing and reaching for him whenever Maurice walked in the door. It was a relief for Rumple, who could use the time Bae was distracted and in the care of another to spin, or go outside and shear the sheep. Maurice enjoyed it too, taking the opportunity to watch his son-in-law work. He knew Rumplestiltskin was a skilled spinner, but it was another thing entirely to watch the man work. He was an expert, and his touch was almost magical. One particular occasion, Maurice placed Bae on the floor while he watched the wheel spin rapidly, not noticed the boy had crawled over to the wheel and got himself tangled up in the wool. It had taken them a good half hour to get Bae out and the wool untangled.

Despite this, though, things were not good. Nightmares plagued Rumplestiltskin almost nightly since his return from war. He dreamt of the Ogres killing his family, and he dreamt of dying and leaving his family to suffer. He woke most nights with a shout, startling his wife and son. The first few times, Belle had been torn between comforting her husband or rushing to Bae's side, but Rumple had instructed Belle to get their son. She did, then he pulled her down to him and he calmed his fears by holding them both close, Belle reassuring him that they were safe.

In addition to the nightmares, his leg was unrelenting in its pain. The damage had never quite healed properly. The carelessness of the physician at the camp and his weeklong walk home had seen to that. The brace Agda procured from them helped tremendously, but it did not ease the pain that lingered deep within the muscle and bones. He forced himself to remain as active as possible however, insisting that he do as much for himself as he could. Belle let him, smiling sadly as she watched her husband struggle to walk with as little of a limp as possible, and she wished there was a way to take away his pain for good. There wasn't, so instead she loved him, and did all she could to encourage him and care for him. On nights when his leg ached particularly badly, she would silently go fetch water and heat some in a kettle. Afterward, she would soak a rag and gently wash his leg, the warm heat soothing the weary and poorly healed muscle and bone. He would sigh, holding their son close and simply enjoy the fact that he had a family to ease his aching soul.

But as much as Belle comforted him, it was Baelfire who truly helped him cope. Every time he glanced at the boy the pain would fade, and he would remember exactly _why_ he'd taken the hammer to himself. Baelfire was, and always would be, worth it. The boy was a delight, and Rumplestiltskin adored his son. He was a happy child, not yet exposed to the harshness of the world, and he would babble and gurgle happily, finding an innocent joy in making his parents smile.

It was when Baelfire began to crawl that the reality of Rumplestiltskin's situation sank in. Bae was mobile now, crawling faster every day and finding more and more ways to get into trouble. It was not lost on Rumplestiltskin that soon he would not be able to go after his son. Bae would be too fast for him to catch. It brought tears to his eyes to think that he would never chase after his son. He would never go running with him or play with wooden swords, or do any of the things he'd longed to do with his father as a child. He realized that in some ways, he had deprived his son of a father, instead giving him a crippled man who could only watch as his son grew and surpassed him, leaving him in the dust.

Belle tried to soothe his fears, telling him that Baelfire would have plenty of children to play with when the time came and that he would need his father for far more important things than running in the fields. Rumplestiltskin indulged in her comforts but did not believe them fully, and he knew Belle could sense his despair. She remained cheerful enough for all of them though, but even Rumplestiltskin knew there would come a time when even Belle's happiness would run dry.

And yet, for all his worry, Belle never seemed to lament her situation. She was always cheerful, though she had her moments of grumpiness when she had failed to get a good night's sleep. Every day she greeted her husband with a smile and a kiss. It was a source of great delight and confusion for Rumplestiltskin to see her look upon him with such love when the rest of the world turned their backs on him. Belle was unconcerned by the village's disdain and carried on as she always had. She carried on, selling wool and buying food and taking care of any business they may have in the village. She walked with a grace that befitted royalty, and she carried herself with dignity and beauty. It was a sight to behold, to see her in such a way.

When Bae grew, she began to take him to the market with her. It made the trip slower as she insisted Baelfire walk, but she would not trade the moments of watching her son waddle in front of her for anything. Though she was particularly annoyed when strangers would approach him and pinch his cheeks or coo about how handsome he was. Baelfire was reserved in some ways like his father, especially around people he did not know well, and he would quickly become fussy if too many people felt the need to grab at him.

But other than the occasional frustration, Bae loved the market. He was entranced by everything, and his curiosity rivaled his mothers. He wanted to see it all, and he insisted on grabbing everything that came within his reach, as children do. Belle was hesitant to scold him, instead taking the opportunity to educate her child, telling him the names of things, and waiting anxiously for the day when he would repeat the word back.

With each day that passed, Bae grew. Whether taller, smarter, or more mischievous, Bae seemed to change every day, picking up new habits and words. Soon he was talking. And though his vocabulary was limited to "Mama", "Papa," and "Baa" after the sheep he adored, he did it with gusto. Bae liked to run outside and point to the sheep as Rumple sat on a stool to shear their coats.

"Baa!" He would cry excitedly. "Papa, Baa!"

Rumplestiltskin would laugh at his son's enthusiasm and limp over to him, lifting him carefully into the pin and letting the boy play with the lambs while he rolled up the wool in his lap. Baelfire would cackle as he chased his friends, and Rumplestiltskin would watch on with pride. His son was a wild thing, sneaky and mischievous as a boy ought to be, but he was also intelligent and bookish like his mother. She read to him frequently, laughing as he would grab at the book and point at words she would sound out slowly and wait for him to repeat. She took the letters that she'd used to teach Rumplestiltskin how to read and began showing them to Baelfire, slowly instilling in him the knowledge that many in their village never received. He constantly asked questions, once he learned how to form the words, and often sat at his father's side and would point to the wool, or the wheel, or the spindle, and ask, "What that?" to which Rumplestiltskin would explain and the boy would laugh in glee, delighted to add one more thing to his ever growing source of knowledge.

~000~

One particularly warm evening, Belle suggested the three of them take a walk. There was still a risk of Ogres, but since Rumple's return, the attacks on both sides had reduced drastically. Fewer men were drafted; the blow from the most recent defeat caused those in the higher ranks to rethink their strategy. For now they were safe, but that safety could vanish at any moment.

This particular path was away from the village, one that Rumple and Belle had taken long ago at the very beginning of their courtship. Now they walked it again with their son who ran ahead of them with his childlike energy. Rumple walked slowly, leaning heavily on his walking cane, and Belle stayed at his side, her hand on his back in silent encouragement. Despite the pain in his leg, Rumplestiltskin smiled at Belle, his love for his son and wife covering him and soothing the ache.

Bae waddled along contently, stopping frequently to pull at grass and flowers or laugh as insects flew by his head. He was easily amused and found pleasure in everything. Belle and Rumple watched on, talking quietly to each other as they kept an eye on their son. Rumple had begun telling Belle more about his time away, the nightmares receding enough for him to feel comfortable reliving it while awake. He'd mentioned Adi before, but tonight he felt the need to tell Belle more, insisting she would have loved his dearest friend.

"He was mad," Rumple said with a fond smile, "So eager to fight. He was eager about everything, really. I've never met someone as happy as Adi was."

"I'm glad you had someone to keep you company while you were away," she whispered, pulling Rumple to a stop and leaning against his chest. "I worried about you so much."

"I worried about you. And Bae."

Belle smiled and held Rumple tighter. "At least you knew," she whispered, "I wanted you to know so badly."

It never failed to amaze Rumplestiltskin how understanding Belle was. Instead of berating him for believing in a seer, she expressed happiness that he knew. Despite all that happened, she'd been more upset about him not knowing.

She moved away from him and walked toward Bae who was playing with grass. "By the way," she said idly as Rumple caught up to her, "I've been meaning to ask you on your opinion about purchasing a few chickens. We have room, and it would be a great help if I had at least one hen to produce eggs."

"Won't it be too much work?" Rumple asked softly, keeping an eye on Baelfire as he waddled away. "You've already had to take on so much because of my disability; I don't want you to over work yourself."

Belle squeezed his arm. "I'm not worried," she said. "It's good for me. Besides, you take care of Bae and spin and cook. You also shear the sheep. All I do is feed them and take the wool to the market. I don't do that much if you really think about it."

Rumple stopped her and turned her to face him. "You do more than you know," he said firmly. "You are a remarkable woman."

She smiled. "I know."

He kissed her gently before Bae's shriek caused them both to glance his way. He was chasing a butterfly, laughing, as he swatted at it none too gently, trying to catch it. It fluttered around, then landed on his nose, causing the boy to laugh with glee. Belle and Rumplestiltskin approached him with adoring smiles on their faces, watching as the boy crossed his eyes in an effort to see the butterfly perched on him.

"That's a butterfly, Bae," Belle said as she knelt down next to him. The butterfly flew off, fluttering past Rumplestiltskin and away, causing Baelfire to frown. "Boo-fy go," he said sadly. Belle pulled him into her lap and peppered his cheek with kisses. "Yes, it's gone. But maybe you'll see him again?"

Bae giggled again, then held his arms out toward his father. "Up?"

Rumple turned, and Belle hoisted the boy up so that his stomach was pressed against Rumple's back. He wrapped his tiny hands around Rumple's neck, and Rumple reached up with his free hand to hold Bae's hands. They began to walk. Belle staying one step behind to keep her hand on Bae's back so he would not fall. Bae swung his legs happily, talking his usual gibberish and laughing. Rumple faltered after a moment and turned to give Belle a knowing look. She nodded silently and took Bae in her arms, spinning him around with her as the boy laughed happily, unaware that his father struggled with his slight weight. It upset Rumple to know he could only carry his son a short distance even with Belle's help, but when Bae waddled up and wound his small arms around Rumple's leg, Rumple couldn't help but grin.

~000~

They sat relaxing together by the fire; Rumple leaned up against his spinning wheel, his leg stretched out on Belle's lap. She ran a rag soaked in hot water over his skin, the pressure and warmth soothing his aching muscles and bones. The walk had been enjoyable but he had overworked himself and now the slightest movement caused him pain. Belle had settled Bae on a blanket with a straw doll Rumple had made for him. He'd declared his father had made one for him, many years ago, and he thought his son might like having a similar play thing. Bae held onto the doll, waving it around in the air and making silly noises, content to play in the confines of his own mind.

Belle continued to care for Rumple's leg, eventually setting aside the rag, and she began pressing her fingers gently into his skin. Rumple hissed, the feeling both painful and pleasurable, and offered his wife an appreciative look.

"Papa, what that?"

Rumplestiltskin looked over to see his son standing before him rubbing his hand innocently over the walking stick that was leaned against the wheel.

"It's my walking stick, son," he explained patiently. "I need it to walk."

"Why?"

It was a new word he'd discovered, and lately neither Belle nor Rumple could say anything without being questioned 'why'. Belle delighted in it, loving that she had a student around to whom she could impart every bit of knowledge. He questioned everything now, with his new word. He seemed to revel in it, his 'why'.

"Because I hurt my leg."

"Why?"

And there it was. Rumplestiltskin knew a day would come when he would have to explain himself to his child, and he'd not yet figured out what he would say. He glanced over at Belle, seeking her help and she looked up with wide, pitying eyes. Rumplestiltskin swallowed thickly, knowing his son wouldn't really understand what he said, but felt it necessary to explain nonetheless.

"Your Papa hurt his leg before you were born," Belle said, causing both father and son to look over at her. She motioned for Bae to come to her, and he did. She settled him into her lap, cradling both her child and Rumple's leg. She pointed to where the skin was knotted and mangled. Bae frowned and looked up at his mother.

"Papa ouch?"

Belle smiled indulgently and nodded. "Yes. Papa's leg hurts him sometimes."

"It hurt now?"

Belle glanced at Rumple who cleared his throat nervously and answered, "Yes. It does."

Bae looked between his father and mother, then bent over and pressed his mouth to his father's ankle in a clumsy kiss. Belle was prone to shower their son with kisses when he fell or hurt himself, claiming that a kiss could make anything better. Baelfire lifted his head and looked at his father expectantly.

"All better?" He asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

With tears in his eyes, Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Yes, son. All better." That seemed to appease the boy's interest, and he moved away from his parents over his little bed which was no more than a small pallet and some blankets. He sat on his bed, grabbing at his doll and began to play again.

They watched their son for a moment, and then Belle glanced over to Rumplestiltskin. He was watching his son lovingly, a stray tear threatening to fall. She gently lifted his leg from her lap and set it on the ground then scooted over to sit beside him. She leaned into his side and he wrapped his arm around her affectionately. She grasped his chin in her fingers and turned him so she could press a light kiss to his lips. "You all right?" She asked, wondering just what impact their son's innocent words had on him.

He nodded. "Yes," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "Yes I am."

 

_End of Part One_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTICE! 
> 
> With Part One of our tale over, I am going to be taking a break from posting. I will continue to work on the story (I am currently writing chapter 27) but I will not be posting anything new. I will return **Friday, March 14** with the beginning of Part 2, which will take place roughly 14 years after Bae's birth. (And you all know what that means...)
> 
> Thank you so much for your support and love. I've enjoyed sharing my story with you all and I'm so glad you like it. I can't wait for you to see what's next!
> 
> Special thanks to Sirensong24 and my husband for editing, as always!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. I make no profit off this story.
> 
> See you Friday, March 14!


	18. A Fine Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mama, Morainne doesn't like flowers," Bae said, "She's not like other girls."

Part Two: Rise and Fall

Chapter 18: A Fine Addition

 

_Thirteen Years Later_

 

"Baelfire! Come back here this instant!"

Baelfire laughed as he ran out the door with two pastries clutched in his hand. He jumped over the gate to the sheep's pen, alarming the animals as he rushed by. He skidded to a halt in front of his father, who sat on a small box, stirring freshly sheared wool in a boiling pot. Hiding his nose in the crook of his arm, Bae held one hand out to Rumplestiltskin. "Mama said you should have one," he said with a snigger.

Rumplestiltskin arched an eyebrow at his son before taking the proffered treat. Popping it into his mouth, he sighed in satisfaction. Belle had become an excellent cook over the years. The sheep they bought had helped tremendously, allowing for the small family to regularly purchase meat and other items that long ago they'd had to do without. They were not rich by any means, but they were able to live modestly. Rumple's wool was legendary, and though most were reluctant to buy from the village coward, the war had people growing desperate. Baelfire was eager to learn his father's trade, and he would often travel to the neighboring villages where his father's legacy was his wool and not his leg, and sell once a month. A few years ago, the family had been able to afford a male sheep with whom they bred their females, and producing several lambs. The kept some to shear, and sold the others for profit. It wasn't much, but it was good.

"Baelfire!"

Bae's eyes widened, and he popped the other pastry into his mouth, smirking mischievously at his father through puffed cheeks. He turned to face his mother, who chased after him, wooden spoon in hand. "Yesh, muffer?" He asked, mouth full. Belle, unable to help herself, rolled her eyes and laughed.

"You are a horrid thing," she teased, swatting at him with the spoon playfully. "I told you _not_ to eat any of those until after supper."

Bae grinned and swallowed his mouthful before turning back to wiggle his eyebrows at his father and running off. Belle swatted at him again as he took off. She giggled, then looked down at her husband, who was watching her lovingly. "What?"

"Nothing," Rumple said as he gripped his walking stick and stood, taking a few slow steps over to her. She met him halfway and wound her arms around his waist. "I just love you. That's all."

Belle smiled and leaned up to brush her lips against his. "And I love you."

"Must you do that outside? Or at all?"

Belle turned to face her son, smiling softly as Rumplestiltskin moved forward and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. "Would you rather we fight all the time?" Rumplestiltskin asked pointedly. Baelfire rolled his eyes.

"No. Just...don't do that stuff out here. Someone could see."

Rumplestiltskin laughed at his son's embarrassment and let go of Belle. Gripping his staff, he nodded toward the wool he was currently boiling. "Come watch this for a bit, lad," he said. "I'm going to go clean up."

Baelfire nodded and walked past them toward the pot. He let out a yelp when Belle whacked him on the backside with her spoon, staring at her in disbelief. "That will teach you," she said with a grin.

Rubbing the spot where she hit him, Bae moved to stir the wool. "Sorry, Mama. But your desserts are just too good not to eat." He glanced at her pleadingly, and Belle giggled.

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, son," Belle replied as she turned to walk inside with her husband, "But thank you just the same."

Belle and Rumple entered the house, and Rumplestiltskin turned to face his wife and cupped her face in his hands. He leaned down to kiss her but was surprised when she spun away from him, laughing as she moved over to the fire where a pot of stew was bubbling.

"What was that for?" He asked, feigning hurt.

"You don't get a kiss," she said, "You ate one of the sweets, and I told Bae not to give you one until after supper."

He stuttered, aghast. "I didn't know you told him 'no'!"

Belle shrugged. "Too bad." She glanced back, and stuck her tongue out at him in jest. Rumple had half a mind to steal another out of spite, but resisted. As good as they were, he feared if he made her angry she'd refuse to make them again. That was a punishment worse than one denied kiss.

"Mmm," Belle said as she lifted the ladle up and took a small taste. "Supper is ready. Go wash up." He turned to obey her, but stopped when he felt her hand on his arm. She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Maybe if you're good, I'll send Bae out to fetch some firewood after supper."

Rumplestiltskin glanced at the doorway, where there sat a small pile of wood. "We already have some."

"Oh," Belle quipped. "Well, I don't have to send Bae out, if you don't want us to be alone...with no son to interrupt us..."

The front door swung open and Rumplestiltskin leaned out, "Bae," he shouted. "We need you to go get firewood after supper tonight."

"All right, Papa!" They heard the boy shout back. Rumplestiltskin shut the door and gave his wife a smug grin.

Belle laughed and shooed her husband away.

~000~

Belle was trying to dress quickly, searching frantically for her dress. Rumplestiltskin relaxed on their bed with great amusement as he watched his wife run about. "The boy won't be back for some time," Rumple said lazily. "You may as well stop fretting."

Belle stopped long enough to throw his shirt at his face. "You don't know that," she stated as she found the article of clothing she was looking for and quickly tugged it on. She grabbed her apron and tied it around her in a tight bow, sighing in relief now that she was decent. Rumplestiltskin chuckled and stood, pulling on his clothing. He grabbed his walking stick and hobbled to where Belle stood and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"There. Perfectly decent and with plenty of time to spare."

Bae had left after supper to fetch firewood as he'd been asked. The door had barely shut before Belle and Rumplestiltskin rushed to their bed, shedding clothing as they went. Intimacy was not frequent anymore, and their small home did not offer much privacy except for a curtain that Bae had hung up to separate his small space from his parent's. There was not much opportunity to enjoy one another unless they sent Baelfire out on some errand, such as collecting firewood or visiting his grandfather. But even after all these years, they still burned for one another. Rumplestiltskin could hardly believe Belle still wanted him after all these years, but she was always eager for a moment alone with him. They were passionate about each other, their love unwavering in the face of all that had happened to them.

Yet, despite their love and their intimacy, there had been no more children between them. It was a mystery that Belle had been unable to conceive another child, and even Agda couldn't explain. They discussed it at length and though the thought of another child had been pleasant, they'd decided not to dwell on things that could not be and instead devoted all their love and attention on their son and on each other.

"Yes well, I wanted to be sure he didn't walk in on us," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to press a deep kiss against his lips.

"Is that all you two ever do?"

They looked to the door to see Baelfire standing there, his arms full of firewood and wrinkled in disgust. Rumplestiltskin laughed and stepped away from Belle, who went to help Baelfire deposit the logs into the pile.

"Sometimes we do other things," Rumplestiltskin said off-handedly, prompting Belle to glare at him.

"Don't make me hit you," she threatened.

Bae laughed, his parents a source of amusement for him. He took the last few bits of firewood over to the hearth and tossed them in. The fire crackled and grew as its warmth filled the room and made it nice and cozy. Belle picked up a book from the ever-growing pile near the bed and sat on the floor next to Bae while Rumple made himself comfortable on a stool across from them, his lame leg stretched out comfortably. Belle began to read aloud, stopping after a while to let Bae take over. They read long into the night, focused only on each other and the rest of the world slipped away.

~000~

The next day, Bae rose early eager to begin his chores. He intended to see his friends today. Many of the families in Gering had moved on from the scandal Rumplestiltskin had caused over a decade before; though they had not forgotten. Some villagers were reluctant to allow their children to play with Baelfire; others cared little, so long as the boy did not cause any great mischief. He did not have many friends as a result, but he hardly minded. The few friends he did have were more than enough.

No one spoke of what his father had done, and it was for the best. Baelfire knew his Papa had been injured while away at war, but he knew nothing else. He'd asked, curious thing that he was, but Belle had always been quick to offer a vague reason and then send the boy out on an errand. Bae suspected there was more to the tale than his parents let on, but he chose not to pursue it.

He finished tending to the sheep, then went back inside to finish a few chores inside. He walked on his toes, trying to remain quiet so as not to disturb his parents who were still asleep. He tripped over his father's stool, letting out a soft curse as he looked over. His papa grumbled and sat up, staring at his quizzically.

"What are you doing, son?"

Bae brought his finger up to his lips to shush his father. "I'm getting my chores done so I can go see Morainne," he said. Rumplestiltskin thought he caught a slight blush on the boy's cheeks.

"Ah," he said knowingly. He reached for his stick and slid out of bed, careful not to wake Belle. He hobbled over to Bae and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You like her, don't you?"

Bae flushed deeper and stepped back from his father. "No," he said defensively, "She's just a friend. My best friend."

Rumplestiltskin smirked at his son and nodded indulgently, causing Bae to fluster, "I don't like her, Papa really. But today is her birthday, and I wanted to surprise her this morning."

Rumple smiled at his son. He'd been friends with the young Morainne for several years. He always had stories to tell about their adventures together, and Rumplestiltskin was sure that the pretty, brown-haired girl would one day become family. She was intelligent like Belle, and braver than most of the boys. She was tough too. Bae would often come home bruised from play fights that had gotten too involved and often left him flat on his back with Morainne standing above him, stick-sword to his chest and grinning proudly.

"Tell you what, my boy," Rumple said, "Why don't you go on and see Morainne? I'm sure your chores can wait until later." He gave Bae a stern look. "But just this once."

Bae grinned and hugged his father, excited to be excused for the day. He grabbed his cloak and rushed to the door, stopping only when his mother's voice called out, "Pick her some flowers," she suggested.

Bae turned to look at his mother, who had risen and wrapped her shawl around her. Her hair was braided, though several strands had fallen loose during the night, making her look disheveled. Bae thought she looked lovely. "Mama, Morainne doesn't like flowers," he said, "She's not like other girls."

Belle gave him a dry look. "Just because she can whip you does not mean she doesn't want to be romanced," Belle chided. "She is very much a girl, and on today, of all days, you should treat her as more than your sparring partner. Trust me," she said with a wink, "Flowers will go a long way."

Bae blushed again and looked down at his feet. He glanced up at his mother and asked softly, "Did-did flowers work for you?"

Belle's smile grew, and Bae had his answer. "Maybe I'll pick one or two," he mumbled. He turned to leave before his mother's voice called out to him again.

"Be careful, Bae," she said. "I don't want you going too far off; stay within the village and don't go anywhere alone."

Bae nodded, and he was gone.

Belle turned to her husband, reaching out affectionately toward him. They met in the middle of the room and embraced gently. Belle laid her head on Rumplestiltskin chest, hugging him tightly, so he could rest some of his weight on her. "He's growing up," she whispered softly and Rumplestiltskin hummed in acknowledgement.

"I can't believe he's going to be fourteen in less than a week," she murmured as Rumplestiltskin kissed her head.

"Neither can I," he said. "Time certainly does fly."

She nodded, resting against him.

"I'm worried," she whispered. "He's getting older, and if this war doesn't stop soon he's going to end up getting drafted."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "He's not going to get drafted," he assured her. "The age limit is sixteen. Surely the war will end before he reaches that age."

"It's been going on since before he was born. What makes you think it'll be over so soon?"

Rumplestiltskin saw the fear in his wife's eyes. It was not often that she allowed herself to show fear. She'd always been brave for them both, but the war against the Ogres had been going on for far too long. Bae would most likely reach the age limit before the war ended, but Rumplestiltskin preferred not to dwell on the possibility of his son being taken.

The age limit had been dropping for some time now. Before it had been twenty-one. Then nineteen, then eighteen, and now sixteen. The army was becoming desperate for men, and once those had run out, they started going after teenagers of both sexes. Reports of deaths arrived every day from messengers who volunteered their time riding back and forth to bring news to the villages who waited for loved ones to return. Most times, they did not. Only a few had returned over the years, each one more battered and bruised and broken than the one before him.

Rumplestiltskin tried to put these thoughts aside and instead began to kiss Belle, knowing that if anything could distract him from dark thoughts of ogres and war, it would be her love. She seemed in need as well, the fear that their son could one day be ripped from them enough to make her cling to him desperately. She practically dragged him back to the bed, in desperate need of a distraction, which Rumple was more than happy to provide.

~000~

There was a commotion outside, startling Belle and Rumplestiltskin, who sat sipping tea inside their home. They'd stopped their chores to take a break for lunch, and they looked at each other with worry. Scrambling to their feet, they both rushed outside to see Bae running toward them, a mix of anger and despair in his eyes.

"They're taking Morainne!" He shouted as he reached his parents. Belle gasped and reached out to hug Bae. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly.

"B-but they can't!" Rumplestiltskin stammered. "She's only just turned fourteen!"

Bae shook his head and looked at his father. "They lowered the age limit," he said. "It's fourteen now."

Belle and Rumple glanced at each other, both staring with horror and dread. Not too far away, a man dressed in fine cloths could be seen dragging Morainne by the hair toward another man on a horse. Belle clutched Bae by the shoulders to keep him from running forward, and he reached down and gripped his father's hand. Rumple held tightly, the three of them watching in horror as the girl struggled to get away from her captor. Her parents were just peasants who lived close by, and they wept and begged for mercy for their child. Her mother cried out, "She's only just turned fourteen!"

The man on the horse, Hodor, laughed at the sight before him. "She looks like a strong girl," he said lightly. "She'll make a fine addition to the king's army."

"You can't take her!" The mother cried, enraged at the thought of her child being sent off to die. She let out a cry of anguish and rushed forward, determined to stop them from taking her daughter. She only managed a few steps before she gripped her throat and fell to the ground. Her husband followed suit as they gasped and struggled to breathe. Hodor laughed and glanced over to the field behind them, where a figure cloaked in all black sat atop a horse with his hand outstretched. "The Dark One seems to think I can," Hodor sneered.

He motioned for the girl to be placed on his saddle, and she was hefted up, still struggling and screaming all the while. Once she was in the tight grip of Hodor's arms, who seemed to enjoy her struggling, he motioned for the hooded figure to cease his grip on her parents. Their lungs filled with air as they gasped for breath, and Belle moved away to see to them. They were a kind couple, and though they were not close, their children were, and Belle tried not to look at her son while she helped upright the gasping woman.

Hodor and his men began to depart as once more Morainne struggled. She glanced back and met Baelfire's eyes. "Bae," she cried. Baelfire rushed forward, calling her name. Morainne's father, who had managed to get back to his feet, reached out and grabbed the boy's arm, stopping him from going after her.

"We can do nothing," he said brokenly, tears streaming down his face. "She's gone."

Bae watched the road the men were traveling down. He could still make out Morainne's shouts and he wrenched his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to drown out the sound. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back to see Rumplestiltskin standing there, tears stinging his own eyes. Bae let out a sob and grabbed for his father, who held him tightly as his son wept over the loss of his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes_ :
> 
> I'm back, baby! Did you miss me?
> 
> While I was on hiatus, I managed to get to chapter 37! So that made me happy! I can't wait for you all to see what I have planned.
> 
> The town names are taken from a website that listed German town names. These names have no connection to anything, I just liked the names.
> 
> Thanks to my husband and Sirensong24 for editing for me. You guys make this thing readable!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters, dialog, etc. belong to their respective owners. I make no profit from this story. I do own Agda.


	19. The Beggar's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I have are my wife and son," he said. "I have nothing else in this world. I would be dust without them."

Chapter 19: The Beggar's Tale

 

Once Bae had cried himself to exhaustion, he collapsed on his parent's pallet and slept deeply. Rumple stayed by his side, waiting anxiously for Belle to return. She'd taken Morainne's mother to Agda to see that she was all right and had been gone at least an hour. With Bae asleep and no one to quiet his fears, Rumple let the worst of his thoughts take hold of him.

His son would be next.

They would take away his boy; the person he'd sacrificed everything for. Rumple looked down at Bae and ran a hand gently through the boy's messy hair. He didn't move, for which Rumple was grateful.

"What are we going to do?"

Belle arrived a few minutes later, looking weary. She glanced at her husband and son with a frown that covered her features. Rumple placed a finger to his lips and she nodded, motioning with her head for him to follow her. Rumple stood, careful not to disturb his son, and he followed Belle over to the table.

"How is she?" Rumple asked softly. Belle sighed.

"Physically, she's fine. But that's about it."

Rumple looked away, "They didn't even wait," he sighed, trying to speak softly so as not to wake his son. "The moment she was of age, they took her."

"It's getting worse," Belle quietly agreed, "And Bae's going to face the same fate."

"No, he's not," Rumple replied, "We're not letting them take our son."

"I'd love to hear your idea," Belle said, lowing her head into her hands. She felt a headache coming on and wished she'd thought to ask Agda for some medicine.

"We have to leave."

Belle sat up. "Leave?" She asked incredulously. "You mean run away?"

"We have no choice," Rumplestiltskin said firmly. "I'm not letting our son fall to the same fate as Morainne."

"Rumple," Belle sighed. "You know I agree with you; I do. But we can't run."

"What other choice do we have?" He demanded, wincing when Bae shifted in his sleep. Lowering his voice, he returned his gaze to his wife. "We either leave, or we lose our only son."

"And what of our home?" She said suddenly. And what of Papa? He's getting older and needs my help. I can't just leave him with no warning."

Rumplestiltskin sighed. "Perhaps we can hide the boy. Take him somewhere and keep him safe."

Belle sighed, "Rumple, I love you, but we can't just run away every time danger comes to our door."

"Belle," he said in exasperation, "I know I'm a coward, and the last thing I want is for my son to be branded the same. But I sacrificed so much to be here with him, and I'm willing to do it again to make sure _he_ stays with _us_."

Belle sighed and looked down at her hands. She knew running was wrong, but she had no desire to have her son ripped from her arms. She glanced back at the boy, sleeping deeply on the pallet with a blanket clutched tightly in his hand. His cheeks were tear stained, and Belle felt her heart swelled at the sight of her son. It was selfish, she knew. But she knew well from Rumple's stories how things would go if her son were dragged to the front. It wasn't fair to anyone, but she wasn't anyone. She was Belle, and she would not let her son go without a fight.

"Take him."

Rumplestiltskin blinked. "What?"

Belle shook her head. "It'll be too suspicious if we all go," she said. "Take him somewhere safe for a few days. Then come back. We can keep him hidden until all this passes. Maybe we can claim he ran away after Morainne was taken and you went to search for him. But if we're going to do this, then you have to take him now."

Rumplestiltskin reached forward and gripped her arms in his hands. "You're sure about this?"

She gave him a displeased look. "Of course I'm not," she said. "But I don't want my son to die. It's not fair to the others who have lost their children, but I'm not going to stand by and watch my son be dragged to his death. We've already lost Morainne. We've lost countless children to this madness. Take him and go."

Nodding once, Rumple stood and moved over to where Baelfire was sleeping. Shaking him he said, "Wake it up, son. Come on."

Bae groaned and opened his eyes, looking up at his father in confusion. "What's going on?"

"Grab your cloak, my boy," Rumple instructed. "We're leaving."

Bae glanced around curiously before looking back at his father. "Why?"

Rumple glanced back at Belle who shrugged, leaving it up to him to tell the boy the truth.

"We just have to go away for a couple days," he said hurriedly. "Grab your cloak; come on. I'll explain everything on the way."

Bae looked from his father to his mother. "Are you coming?" He asked, worried. Belle shook her head.

"No, sweetheart. But it's all right," she said, standing to hug him. "You and your father will be back soon. He'll explain everything, just like he said." She glanced up at Rumplestiltskin then, and her eyes bored hard into his. She was not pleased, but they understood they were only doing what they thought was best for their son. He knew Belle did not value the thought of her child running, neither did he, but Rumplestiltskin knew he would never forgive himself if something happened to Baelfire. He doubted even Belle could forgive him that.

Belle hugged Bae to her chest, gripping him tightly for a long moment before letting him go. "Be safe," she said. "I'll see you both soon." Rumple grabbed Belle and kissed her firmly. She moved away after a moment, but grabbed him by the arm. "Be careful."

He nodded and turned, limping out into the night with Baelfire following uncertainly behind him. Belle sank down onto the bed, leaning over so that her head rested on her knees. She prayed she wouldn't regret this.

~000~

They walked as quickly as they could, and Baelfire continued asking why they left and where they were going. Rumplestiltskin sighed and stopped, turning to his son. "We're protecting you," he said finally. "That's what we're doing. We're going to protect you."

"From what?" Bae asked aghast. "Papa this isn't like you, keeping secrets. What's going on."

It was exactly like him, Rumple thought bitterly. His son had no idea just how much of a coward his father really was. He supposed he'd have to come clean about it all tonight. But only after they were safe.

"Just come on, Bae," He said desperately. "Please. Once we're safe I'll explain everything."

They walked on, stopping briefly when they met a beggar on the road, who begged them for money. Rumple did not have much, but felt pity for the old man and gave him a few of his shillings, much to the old man's delight. They walked on and Bae did his best to stay quiet, though his mind was plagued with questions and worry. If they were in danger, why had Mama stayed behind? Bae had the feeling they were trying to keep him from facing the same fate as Morainne. It filled him with frustration to know he was running from war when she'd not had the choice, but he knew better than to argue with his father. In this, he knew his Papa would not waver. So he followed, glancing at his father every so often to judge his demeanor. His father was nothing but a bundle of nerves. He'd always been a nervous man, and Bae wondered if there was more to this than he realized.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of horses approaching. Rumplestiltskin panicked, and began to push his son to the forest on the side of the road. "Get off the road, son," he begged. "Get off the road and hide!"

"No, Papa." Bae argued. "I'm not going to leave you here. What if it's someone who means harm?"

Rumplestiltskin did not have time to answer for the group was quickly upon them, and it filled Rumplestiltskin with fear to see it was the man who'd taken Morainne. He had a few men at his back, and they all laughed mockingly.

"What are you doing on the king's road?" He asked. Rumplestiltskin could swear he smelled the foul stench of ale.

"We're on...our way to Longbourne," he managed, stammering as he lied. "To the fair. To sell wool."

Hodor hopped off his horse, taking a swaggering step forward. Squinting slightly, he grinned. "Don't see any wool on you," he sneered. "Be hard to sell wool if you haven't got any."

He stepped closer to them, shining his torch in their faces. "I know you," he squinted. "You're quite a legend in the army. What was your name again?" He stopped in thought for a moment before trying, "Spindleshanks?"

The men behind him laughed. He continued. "Or maybe Threadwhistle." Rumplestiltskin winced but said nothing, gripping his walking stick tightly as he tried to brush off the verbal blows.

"Oh! Hobblefoot!" He tried again, earning a cheer from his men. "Hobblefoot: The Man Who Ran." He said with a mocking grin. He glanced over at Baelfire and chuckled. "Looks like Ol' Hobblefoot's teaching you to run too."

"His name is Rumplestiltskin."

"The man leered at Bae. "And what's your name boy?"

"What's yours?"

He laughed. "You hear that, fellows? The boy's got a mouth!" The men behind him jeered and he turned to face him. "I'll play. Name's Hodor. Now, what's yours?"

"Baelfire."

Hodor chuckled. "And how old are you, Baelfire?"

Rumplestiltskin reached out and gripped his son's arm. "Don't say anything," he whispered.

Hodor growled. "I asked you a question," he barked.

"I'm thirteen!" He cried out.

Hodor smiled. "And when will become fourteen?"

"Don't answer him, son."

"Hey!" Hodor shouted. "I'm talking to him." He regarded Baelfire again. "When is your birthday?"

"In five days' time."

Bae could hear Rumplestiltskin whimper in despair next to him. Hodor heard it as well and fixed his gaze on him. "You're still a coward, aren't you?" He questioned, and Rumplestiltskin lowered his eyes, wishing he could disappear. Hodor glanced at Baelfire. "I bet you don't even know how your father became a cripple," he said. Baelfire remained silent for a moment, then spoke.

"He was hurt in the war."

Hodor and his friends howled with laughter.

"Oh! That ain't the way I heard the story. And it's a right good tale, ain't it boys!" Hodor exclaimed as he looked back at his men who cheered him on. "Your father ran," he said as he turned back to regard Bae. "On the night the battle turned. He got scared and _fled_. Everyone else that night died."

Images of men, those he'd known well and those he hadn't flashed through Rumplestiltskin's head. Even after fourteen years, he could not forget the faces of the men who'd succumbed to the wrath of the ogres that night. He thought of Adi, his dearest and only true friend. He felt his legs weaken, and he felt sick. The pain and regret of what he'd done welled up in him, and not even the boy at his side could quell the anguish and shame he felt for being the only survivor. He did not deserve his life, yet he'd taken it and left countless other children without fathers and wives without husbands. Now he was stealing his son away in the name of the same love that had caused him to abandon his brothers.

"I'm sure you'll make a better soldier than your father," Hodor said, taking a dangerous step closer.

Rumple reacted instinctively, coming to life for the first time since the men appeared and pushed Bae behind him. "Don't take my boy," he begged. "Leave him be."

Hodor crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Rumplestiltskin. "All right, then. What's your price?"

Rumplestiltskin blinked. "What?"

"The way I see it," Hodor responded, "You'll owe me something for me not taking your brat to the front tonight. But, you're just a lowly peasant. You couldn't possibly have anything to convince me to let him stay."

"P-please," he begged.

Hodor thought for a moment. "The way I see it, you have nothing. No money, no land. Nothing of any real value...Except fealty."

"I don't understand," Rumplestiltskin stammered.

Hodor chuckled darkly. "I'd like a little fealty," he said, stretching out his foot in front of him. "Kiss my boot."

Rumplestiltskin stood, wide eyed at the man before him. It was the ultimate humiliation; something he would never be allowed to forget. He glanced back at his son who stood frozen in horror at the scene being played out before him. Rumplestiltskin remained still, too afraid to do anything.

Hodor began to grow impatient and snarled again, "Kiss. My. Boot. Or the boy goes with me." He snapped his fingers, and a couple men began to dismount their horses. Rumplestiltskin fell to his knees, his legs giving out from the weight of his despair, and he crawled forward and pressed his lips to the man's outstretched boot. Baelfire looked away, the sight of his father prostrate too much to bear. Hodor lifted his foot to kick Rumplestiltskin in the stomach, laughing as the poor man clutched himself in agony. He groaned. The pain indicated that at least one of his ribs was cracked, and he tried to keep his sobs quiet as Baelfire fell to his knees to tend to his father. Hodor mounted his horse and waved tauntingly. "See you around, coward," he mocked before locking eyes with Bae. "And I'll see you soon as well." He laughed as he rode off, and his men following behind.

Bae watched them go, anger boiling in his veins. Those men had no right to treat others like that! They were cruel and heartless, and Bae felt hatred toward the man who hurt his father and humiliated him, and who had taken Morainne. He wanted to chase after them, stand up to the man and tell him his horrid ways would not be tolerated, but his father groaned again and he pushed all thoughts of anger and hurt aside. He helped his father sit up, allowing his to pause so he could catch his breath.

He tried to help his father to his feet, but the task proved difficult. They collapsed to the ground in a tangle of limbs; Rumple's leg was not able to withstand any weight at all. He cried out in pain, and Baelfire stood again to try to help his father. Suddenly, a second pair of hands gripped Rumple and helped hoist him to his feet. Baelfire looked over to see the old beggar from earlier that evening and gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, old man," he said.

Rumple took a shaking breath and regarded the man as well. "I have nothing else to give you for your help," he whispered sorrowfully. The old man shook his head dismissively.

"I'll help you back home," he said. "Just spare me what little food you can, and I'll be forever grateful."

Rumplestiltskin nodded weakly. "Aye, I can do that."

The old man glanced at Baelfire, "Lead the way, son."

~000~

Belle looked up in confusion when the door to her home opened and Baelfire, Rumple, and a stranger entered. She was on her feet in an instant, catching Rumple as he collapsed against her in exhaustion. She glanced at Bae. "What happened?"

Bae pointed to the old man. "He helped us," Baelfire explained. "We ran into the men who took Mor-" he stopped for a moment to compose himself, then continued, "Morainne. They hurt Papa."

Belle made a noise of despair then helped her husband sit on the bed. "Are you all right?" She asked, brushing his damp hair out of his eyes. He looked at her, his eyes swollen and pained and nodded slightly. "Feed him," he whispered. "I promised him food for his help."

Belle nodded. "Of course. Bae, help your father." Once Bae was with Rumple, Belle turned to acknowledge the man before her. "Thank you so much for your help-" She paused, waiting.

"Oh, it's Cary, miss."

She nodded. "Thank you, Cary."

She put an extra log in the fire and began to reheat the stew from earlier. Belle looked over, watching as Rumple stood on unsteady legs. Bae protested, but Rumple insisted he was fine. Resigned that his father would not stay still, Bae moved over to his own bed and pulled his shoes off with a sigh. Belle walked over to him and rested her hands on his shoulders tenderly. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, she murmured, "Why don't you get some rest, dear? It's been a long, awful day."

Bae nodded and was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

Belle returned to the fire and ladled out a bowl of stew, holding it out to Cary. "Here you go," she said with a smile. The man took it gratefully and began to eat, shoving a large spoonful into his mouth.

Belle and Rumple sat at the table across from him, glancing at each other awkwardly.

"So you were trying to run?" He asked in between bites. Rumple lowered his head in shame.

"I just want to protect my boy," he said, taking in a pained breath. His ribs were definitely cracked. "We've lost so many children to this war. I can't bear to lose my son." He sighed. "I suppose there's no getting him away now."

Cary shook his head. "Of course there's a way. You just need to think of another path."

"What choice do we have?" Rumplestiltskin asked harshly. "I'm lame, and my wife is latched to the village coward. We have no friends because of what I've done. I've subjected my boy to a life as the son of a coward. The only choice I have is which corner to hide in." He turned and looked at Belle sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry I've failed you yet again."

Belle's eyes brimmed with tears, and she stretched an arm around his shoulders to offer comfort. "You haven't failed us," she said softly.

Rumplestiltskin sighed and looked at Cary who was watching them with interest. "All I have are my wife and son," he said. "I have nothing else in this world. I would be dust without them."

Cary smiled. "If you had power, you would have nothing to fear."

Rumplestiltskin scoffed. "You may as well say 'diamonds'."

"Get a hold of yourself!" Cary chided, slapping his hand on the table. "Think. Why do you think that someone as powerful as the Dark One would work for a useless fool like the Duke of the Frontlands?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "I don't know."

Carry explained. "The Duke has the Dark One in thrall. He's enslaved him with the power of a mystical dagger and on the blade is written a name – the true name of the Dark One. If you steal the dagger, then you would control the Dark One yourself."

"And if you stab the Dark One, you take his powers. That's why there's only ever one Dark One at a time."

Rumple and Cary gave her puzzled glances and Belle shrugged. "I've read about it. It gave me nightmares as a child. The Dark One is a dangerous creature, if his dagger is in the wrong hands." She shuddered, "It's such a horrible thought; having someone control another like that."

Cary watched her curiously for a moment then glanced back at Rumplestiltskin. "But _imagine_ that power, if you had it yourself," he exclaimed. "You would have the ability to protect your family."

Rumple thought about it for a moment. He glanced at Belle again, and an idea began to form. He could use the dagger, he thought, to stop the war. Make the Dark One rid the land of Ogres and put a stop to it all. He could be known as a hero, and his family would no longer be known as the wife and son of the village coward. He could use the Dark One's powers for good, and help the village become prosperous and bountiful. There would be no struggles, no poverty. They could all be at peace.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Belle seemed to sense what was going through her husband's head. "Rumple," she cautioned but he glanced at her with hopeful eyes. "I'm going to take the dagger," he said triumphantly. Belle opened her mouth to argue, but Cary interrupted joyfully.

"Excellent!" He exclaimed, "And it just so happens, I know where it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh...
> 
> (I am aware the beggar has a different name here. There is a reason for that.)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 20 will be up Friday, March 28!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, liked, and favorited!
> 
> Special thanks to my husband and Sirensong24 for looking this over!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. None of the characters, dialogue, or plot belong to me. I do own Agda.


	20. The Dark One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could change the world with this kind of power. Make the name _Rumplestiltskin_ mean something. He could stop all wars, remove corrupt peoples from power. He could do so much. He could do everything he'd never been able to do.

Chapter 20: The Dark One

The beggar left not long after he finished his meal, promising that he would check back with them in a few days. Once he was out the door Belle whirled around and stared at Rumplestiltskin in horror.

"What are you thinking?" She asked, careful not to wake Baelfire. "You can'tpossibly be serious about this."

He limped over to her and took her hand in his free one. "Of course I'm serious," he said plainly, "If I can steal the dagger, I can end the war. I can make life better for everyone. The Dark One is being used for evil. I can change that. I can _finally_ do something right."

"But is it worth it?" She asked, squeezing his hand. "What if you're caught? What if you can't find it? There are a thousand ways this could fail, Rumple." She sighed. "You gave up so much to be _here_. Don't get yourself killed over a story about a dagger."

"We both know the stories are true," he argued, "You saw what happened to Morainne's parents. The Dark One could have killed them. If he can do that, perhaps if someone good holds the dagger, his magic can help people."

Belle studied him with careful uncertainty. She didn't like this idea and wanted no part in it, but Rumplestiltskin believed he could do this. He believed he could make a difference, and though she was convinced nothing good would come of it, she could not bring herself to dash the hope that now made his eyes bright. She knew that he had always been happy _enough_ , but it was no secret that he longed for more. She did as well, if not for her, then for her son.

"You're determined?" She asked.

He nodded. "I won't do it if it displeases you this much," he admitted. "But, Belle, I-"

She gently laid her hand over his lips. "Of _course_ it displeases me," she sighed, "Nothing good can come from this, but I'm not going to stop you. This will be _your_ decision. I'll stand by you no matter what, but this is you."

"I just need it long enough to stop the war," he said desperately, "That's all. If I can save Bae and save the others, then that will be enough."

"Then you'll get rid of it?" She asked, hopeful.

Rumple nodded.

"I'll do whatever you wish, dearest," Rumple said as he leaned forward and kissed her. He let go of her and stepped back, shifting his balance and moving back to the spinning wheel. Belle watched on with curiosity.

"What are you doing?"

"I've got to get to work," he said. "There's only a couple days until they'll return."

~000~

Bae stood by his father's side, helping stir the sheep's fat boiling over the small fire. His father had been aloof and energetic today, and Bae was baffled by it. He had asked his mother that morning why Papa was behaving so strangely, but she had merely frowned and said he was working on a personal project.

Bae knew he would get nothing else out of his mother, so he offered his services to his father, who seemed more than happy to let him help. He explained to Bae the process of soaking the wool and they set to work. Finally Baelfire asked, "Why are we doing this? This is good wool that we could spin and sell."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "No, son. I'm going to use this to get into the Duke's castle. There's something there I have to take."

Blinking, Bae asked, "What?"

"Do you remember," Rumplestiltskin said, glancing around before whispering, "The Dark One?"

Bae's eyes widened. He nodded once, the image of that vile creature harming his friend's parents too vivid in his mind.

"He's controlled by a dagger," Rumple explained, not noticing his son's change in demeanor. "If I can get my hands on the dagger, I can control him and make him end the war."

Bae watched his father while the words sank in. He smiled softly and said, "Those that were taken would be able to come home."

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Yes. I could have the Dark One return all the children to their families."

Baelfire laughed. "Papa that's wonderful!" He said as he grabbed his father and hugged him.

Rumple nodded excitedly in agreement. "Isn't it? Oh, it's going to be such a sight to summon the Dark One and tell him I want to use his magic for good." He paused, and a sly smirk grew across his face.

"It's incredible, Papa," he agreed. "But how is wool going to help you?"

"I'm using it to make torches," he explained, "What we're soaking them in will make it all the more flammable."

Bae regarded his father curiously. "But why does that matter?"

"Because," Rumple explained, amused that Bae's desire to learn had not diminished with age. He still asked questions and still asked why. He still wanted to know how everything worked and it delighted Rumple that he could teach his son all that he knew. He hoped someday his son could teach him things. "The Duke's castle is made of stone. Or, the walls are. The floors and the rafters are made of wood."

Bae thought for a moment. "Wood burns," he said finally. "You're going to set a fire."

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Exactly."

Bae bit his lip, eyes narrowed and cast downward. Rumplestiltskin frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Does Mama know about this?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "She does. She doesn't approve, but I never expected her to."

"Then why are you doing this if Mama doesn't want you to?"

Rumplestiltskin offered his son a small smile. "Because while we may not agree on my methods, we both agree that we want to protect you from this war. You're our only child, and neither of us could bear to lose you."

Bae nodded, but said nothing more. He moved back to the pot that rested over the fire and stirred the sheep's fat some more. They worked in silence for some time, but then Bae spoke again, needing to address what laid heavily on his heart.

"Papa," he said. His voice suddenly sounded small and frightened. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at his son with concern and waited for him to continue. "I just want you to know," he said slowly, "That if this doesn't work, and you don't manage to get the dagger, I'm willing to fight. I know it's not what you want, but it's the law, and if they come for me, I'll go. And I'll fight honorably."

Rumplestiltskin let out a cry and grabbed for his son and pulled him close. "You won't fight," Rumple said determinedly. "They don't care if you can fight. All they want is to send you to the slaughter. That's what this is." Rumplestiltskin pointed to the sky, which was painted red. It had been that way for a year now, the sky the color of blood; angry and dark, the smoke from the battlefields making it hazy.

"That is the blood of our people," he said firmly. "Sent to die. I'm not going to let that be your fate."

Bae looked at his father uncertainly for a long moment, and then went back to stirring. He did not speak again until he went inside to wash up for supper. He was afraid that his father was on a fool's errand for a dagger, and he was afraid for himself. He knew he was only a few days away from being swept off to war, and though he wished with all his heart he would be saved from going to war, he forced himself to be realistic. He may have to go. He may fight and he may die. But at least he might see Morainne again.

They ate supper in silence, Rumple practically buzzing with energy. Belle remained calm and offered Baelfire reassuring looks as they shared a silent conversation. Both hoped Rumplestiltskin could save them. Neither expected him to.

~000~

It was after midnight when Rumple made his way out. The sky was black, save for the wispy waves of smoke that billowed up from the battle lines in the distance. The moon was out, which aided Rumple as he limped as quickly as he could down the path. He wore his brace with wooden splints wrapped around his leg tightly to help with the pain and pressure. It still hurt though, but Rumplestiltskin felt it necessary to do what needed to be done.

The Duke's castle was a few miles south of his village, and it would take him a good part of the night to reach the castle. Rumple also feared that he might tire himself out, so he moved quickly. He didn't know when the men would return for Bae. After the altercation they'd had the day before, they might show up sooner out of spite. Bae would turn of age before they reached the battle field, and then the law would be fully against Rumplestiltskin. It was nothing new, to be the underdog, but this time he believed he could change his family's fate for the better. He allowed himself no other option. He walked on, chanting to himself over and over that he was going to save his son. When he grew weary, that mantra spurred him on.

By the time he made it to the castle, he was exhausted, but the hard part of his plan had not even begun yet and so he pressed on, his fear and determination fueling him. He was surprised to find there were no guards surrounding the castle. Rumple assumed that any man who could be spared was at the battlefield, being sacrificed to the Ogres unending appetites. That thought brought forth a surge of energy, and he rushed to the side of the castle, where he was sure to remain unseen. He was not sure if the Duke was even home. There would be servants and maids though, to be sure, but the Duke himself was probably not here. That thought gave Rumplestiltskin pause.

What if the Duke kept the dagger on him at all times? It seemed logical to Rumplestiltskin that he would, and he felt himself despair. Bae had been right. What if the dagger wasn't here? Rumple frowned. He had been so certain that he hadn't stopped to consider the fact that his plan might actually fail. Belle had even declared this could fail in any numerous way, and suddenly Rumplestiltskin resented himself for not listening to his wife. He stopped and took a breath, then shook his head resolutely. He'd come this far, and to return without even trying would make him even more of a failure. He would almost rather not return at all, if that were the case.

Summoning his courage, he pulled the torches out from his sack and lit them. The flame shot up high on the torch, and the heat and light overwhelmed Rumplestiltskin for a moment. He recovered quickly and glanced at the pile of hay at his feet. That would make a good starting point he figured. He took a deep breath and dropped the torches onto the hay, stepping back as the flames ate away at the dry stuff and crawled up the castle walls.

~000~

When Rumplestiltskin made it inside he paused, hesitant. How was he ever going to find the dagger? Realization dawned on him that he had no idea where to look, and he just set the castle on fire which severely limited his time to find it before the castle began to collapse around his ears. He cursed himself for his foolishness - what had he been thinking - and pressed on, hoping he could figure out where one would keep a priceless and dangerous dagger.

He searched every room he came to, pulling out drawers and lifting rugs to see if there were hidden doors in which one could hide something small. He had no luck in the first three rooms and was beginning to grow desperate. He walked through the grand hall, hiding behind a large pillar as a servant rushed by in a panic, shouting for help.

He maneuvered through the large room, pausing when he passed three large tapestries hanging on the wall. It was far too obvious in Rumplestiltskin's mind, but the Duke did not seem to be an exceptionally intelligent fellow. Rumplestiltskin moved forward and ripped the first tapestry off the wall.

Nothing.

He sighed and pulled at the second one, eyes growing wide when he saw, resting on an ornate plaque, a dagger, small and wavy, and intricately decorated. In the middle of the dagger rested the Dark One's true name, Zoso. Rumplestiltskin stared in awe, reaching out hesitantly to grasp it. He felt the intense power the moment he laid his hands on it, and shuddered from it. So much power in his hands, he thought. The ability to change the world rested within this small dagger that seemed so innocent and plain. He held the dagger at his side and gripped his walking stick in his hand. Turning, he moved as quickly as he could out of the castle and did not look back as it began to collapse in his wake.

~000~

He stumbled along as best he could, until he made it to a small clearing in the woods a couple miles away from the castle. He could see smoke rising up in the night, and he sighed heavily. He'd never done something like that before, and he felt a small pang of guilt for destroying the man's home. He pushed it aside quickly, telling himself that the man was probably wealthy enough to build ten homes just like it, and the guilt seemed to vanish.

Dropping his walking stick, Rumplestiltskin pulled out another torch. He lit it, needing to see now that he was not blindly running in a panic to escape the crime he'd just committed. He held the dagger up to the light, admiring it once more. Deciding to get it over with, he lifted the dagger, ready to summon the Dark One and make the world a better place.

But then he stopped as a thought occurred to him. Why should he merely control the Dark One? He remembered Belle said the one who stabbed the Dark One with the dagger would inherit the powers. It was a tempting thought. How much better would it be if he were the one to stop the war and not the Dark One under his control? He could save the children, care for the village, do everything he'd never been able to do.

He blinked, the thought fading as quickly as it had come, and scolded himself. He did not have it in him to kill. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted that power. He sat on the ground, suddenly confused and unsure. He stared at the dagger, thinking for a long while, knowing that he could help all those who couldn't help themselves: the people like him, who were weak and mistreated and undervalued. He could change the world with this kind of power. Make the name _Rumplestiltskin_ mean something. He could stop all wars, remove corrupt peoples from power. He could do _so much_. He could do everything he'd never been able to do.

He could give Belle and Baelfire the life they deserved. A home that was not cramped; books from all over the world. Fine clothes and jewels and anything they could ever want. He could be the father and husband he'd always wanted to be. He could make himself a man worthy of Belle's love. And it was as simple as plunging metal through flesh. All that power, within his grasp, yet so very fragile. It could slip away at any moment. But if he kept the power, if he were the one who wielded the dagger and the power and the love that fueled this mad desire to do the unthinkable, then all would be right. He could be a force for good.

He raised the dagger, and called out, "Zoso, I summon thee."

He did not know what to expect when he summoned the Dark One, but he found complete disappointment when nothing happened. He frowned and lowered the dagger. Had he not done it right? How did one summon the Dark One? Rumple sighed and turned, wondering if he should return home and see if Belle had read anything on the subject, when he came face to face with a hooded man. Rumple cried out and stumbled backwards, a burst of pain shooting up his leg.

_"You were asking for me?"_

Rumple's throat felt dry, but he swallowed thickly and held the dagger up once more. "Submit, Dark One! I control you!"

The Dark One chuckled, and Rumplestiltskin felt a tremor of fear rush through him.

_"Yes you do.Wield the power wisely."_

They stood facing each other as the Dark One waited for Rumplestiltskin to make his request. When he did nothing, the Dark One spoke up. "You can wield at any time now. And I would hurry. I can hear horses approaching. It looks like their coming for your boy early."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head frantically. "No. No that can't take him. They can't take him!"

The Dark One stepped closer, his bitter laugh echoing around them. _"They can do what they will. It's me you control. Only I can stop them from taking your son."_ He paused, studying Rumplestiltskin from underneath his hood. _"Are you even sure he isyour son?"_ He mocked. _"You were gone an awfully long time."_

Rumplestiltskin sputtered and scowled. "Of course he's mine!" He seethed. "My wife is faithful to me. How dare you accuse her of something so horrid?"

_"You're a coward, and now you're lame. It wouldn't be a surprise if she'd found someone to give her the family she wanted in your absence. If you ask me, the boy doesn't really look like you."_

Rumplestiltskin felt fury rage through him. He had never doubted Belle's fidelity, and he would not start now. It had never crossed his mind that she might seek comfort elsewhere, but he was not going to allow this creature to fill his head with filth and degrade his wife in front of him. Dark One or not, he would not let this stand.

"Stop," he said, and Zoso went silent. After a moment he asked, _"What would you have me do? Or are you going to stand here and gape?"_ He laughed cruelly, _"I've had my share of masters in my time, but none are as pathetic as you. You don't even know what you want of me! Perhaps you could have me kill you. That would be a mercy for your wife, I'm sure. To know she's free of such a pathetic creature."_ The Dark One lowered his hooded head and Rumple could see a glimmer of yellowed teeth in the light of the torch, _"Maybe I could show her a good time."_

Rumplestiltskin cried out in a rage and leapt forward. It was one thing to speak about him in such a way; but to speak of Belle? It would not do. Rumple was tired of being mocked and of being hated. He was going to change his fate, and his name would no longer be synonymous with the word 'coward'.

"You can die!" The dagger plunged straight into the Dark One's heart. Zoso crumpled to the ground, and Rumple followed, not letting go of his hold on the dagger. He watched as the color, a strange greenish-gold, drain from the creatures face, revealing the fleshy pink of -

"Cary?"

Cary laughed, blood sputtering from his lips and landing on Rumple's face.

"But, you can't be the Dark One," Rumple cried. "You're the beggar!"

"I couldn't tell you my real name," Cary whispered hoarsely. "You'd have recognized it on the blade."

"You lied to me."

Cary shook his head. "Cary was the name of the Dark One before me. Didn't lie."

"I don't understand why you did this!" Rumplestiltskin gasped, staring at the man with fear.

"Looks like you made a deal you didn't understand." He laughed again, the sound fading into a hard cough. "I don't think you're going to do that again."

Rumple stared at the man in confusion, his eyes wide with horror at what he'd done. Suddenly it all made sense. The beggar finding them, feeding him the story of power and heroics. "You wanted this," Rumple said, the realization dawned on him. "You wanted me to kill you."

Cary nodded and coughed again. "My life was such a burden. You'll see. Magic always comes with a price, and now it's yours to pay."

"No," Rumplestiltskin said. "No, no. Why did you do this to me? How could you?"

"You're desperate," Cary explained, his voice getting weaker. "I know how to recognize a desperate soul, and you were the only one who could set me free."

He laughed one last time, the sound a wheezing, weak thing. Then he went limp and said no more.

Rumple stared on, grasping at the man and begging him to come back. He didn't want this, but he realized that it was far too late. This was not what he'd wanted. He was a fool; a stupid fool who was now in far too deep. He pulled the dagger out, knowing what he would see yet praying he wouldn't. Sure enough, on the blade, in a curved and lovely font washis name, Rumplestiltskin.

Rumple began to shake, his breathing growing shallow and rapid. Panic overtook him, and he staggered back from the unmoving figure before him. He felt something take hold of him then, something foreign and strange and magical, and he watched in shock as his skin began to transform before his eyes. He felt something grip his heart, and he clutched at it, sinking to the ground as the sensation left him weak.

He gasped for air, feeling dizzy from the sensation of magic surrounding him. His thoughts were muddled, clouded with voices whispering and pain, and when it all became too much to bear he let out a broken scream that left his throat raw and burning. He collapsed to the ground, wishing more than anything he were dead, that the strange sensations, burning, and unbearable pain would stop.

And then it did.

It had hit him like a wave crashing upon him and it was gone just as quickly. He raised his head up, then pushed himself onto his knees with his hands. He glanced down to see that the skin of his hands was a similar shade to the way Cary had looked before. He stood. His knees were shaking as he took a step backwards. As he moved his, eyebrow raised in surprise when he felt no pain in his leg. He glanced down, lifting his foot and hopping on it a few times, laughing in surprise when there was nothing but the sensations of movement. He was no longer lame, he realized. He was as he'd been, before the war.

He froze as he remembered the war - the reason he was here. He could now hear the horses Cary spoke of in the distance. It was strange to be able to hear and see so well and so far. It was incredible; but there was no time to dwell on that now. His son was in danger.

Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes and stretched out his hand, summoning the dagger to his grasp. It flew up effortlessly to his hand, and he clutched it so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared out beyond him, allowing the magic to settle around and within him. He did not know exactly what to do, but he knew he could not be stopped now. He had power. He was _the Dark One._

And no one was going to take his son from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it finally happened...uh ohh...
> 
> Thank you everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed. I am forever grateful to you. :-) Your comments are awesome and I always have a blast reading them! 
> 
> Chapter 21 will be up Friday, April 4.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of it's characters. Some of the dialogue in this chapter was taken or heavily inspired by scenes from the episode "Desperate Souls".


	21. Only Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd taken this magic with the intention of saving his son, and now that was done. All that was left was for him to stop the Ogres.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is slight mention of violence and war-related injuries in this chapter. There is also minor character death.

Belle awoke to the sound of pounding on the door. She and Baelfire had waited anxiously all night for Rumplestiltskin to return, and she began to fear the worst had happened to him. They'd fallen asleep on the floor with Bae curled up around her as she read to them by the fire. She glanced out the window, frowning when she realized the sun was up and Rumplestiltskin was not home.

She stood, causing Bae to wake, and opened the door cautiously. "Yes?" She asked. The door flew open as two guards shoved their way inside and strode forward to grab Baelfire. Belle cried out, as did Bae, but a third guard appeared and grabbed her from behind, preventing Belle from grabbing for her son. Bae did not fight; instead he hoped his cooperation would prevent any harm from coming to him or his mother.

He felt angry as he was dragged out of the house; anger at his father for leaving them. He'd not expected him to return with the dagger, but he was not even here. He wanted to see his father; to tell him it would be all right.

"Everyone's watching from behind their curtains today," Hodor observed, sitting astride his horse. He looked around with a smug grin on his face. He made an example of the young girl's family from the other day, it seemed, and now people were more understanding of his cause. He grinned down at Baelfire, who was trying to look back at his mother, who was shouting his name through her tears.

"He's not yet fourteen yet! Let him go!" She cried desperately.

Hodor opened his mouth to speak but froze when one of the men holding onto Baelfire gasped suddenly and fell lifeless to the ground. Bae, Hodor, and the other guard all looked up in horror to see a hooded figure stepping forth.

"You heard her," the voice said menacingly, "Let him go."

The guard let go of Baelfire's arm before, but only to grab at his throat. After a moment of struggle, he fell down dead. The same happened to the guard behind Belle, and despite her horror, she rushed to embrace her son, staring in amazement at the figure who'd saved them.

"Dark One," Hodor said in a nervous stammer, sliding off his horse to bow. The figure stepped closer and Hodor glanced up. His eyes narrowed as he peered under the hood. "No," he whispered. "You're not him. Who are you?"

The figure chuckled. "You've already forgotten me?" He teased. Belle stiffened; she knew that voice. "Oh, what was it you called me? Spindleshanks?" he asked, pressing one long finger to his chin as he thought. He snapped his fingers in delight when he recalled the other cruel name, "Hobblefoot!"

Baelfire, still in his mother's arms, gaped. "Papa?!"

That caught Hodor's attention, and he stared in horror as he whispered, "Rumplestiltskin..."

He giggled, the sound a strange, lilting, and menacing sound. It was so unlike Rumplestiltskin, but perfect for the dark figure who stood before them, his presence a commanding everyone present. "And now you know me as the new Dark One."

He took a step closer and regarded Hodor carefully. "How about a little fealty," he sneered. "Kiss my boot."

Hodor did not hesitate to bend low, pressing his lips to Rumplestiltskin's boot. He remained prostate for a long moment before rising up, crying out in pain as Rumplestiltskin grabbed both sides of his face and twisted. The sickening crack of bones echoed around them. Hodor fell dead, and the other two remaining guards rushed forward, determined to avenge their fallen comrades. Rumplestiltskin made quick work of them, slicing them deeply with his blade, relishing in the strange but consuming feeling of absolute _power_. He could feel it rushing in his blood and becoming one within him. He _was_ power.

He glanced up to see Belle and Bae staring at him with a mix of horror and awe. Rumplestiltskin took a step forward and stretched out a hand to them. Bae pressed into his mother, who squeezed him tightly, silently reassuring him that all would be well.

"What has happened to you, Papa?" He asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Rumplestiltskin smiled, the gesture gentle but menacing.

"You're safe," he said softly. "I protected you both. Don't you feel safe now?"

Bae shook his head, causing Belle to act. "Go inside," she whispered to him. Bae looked up at her, about to protest, but she spoke again, her voice firm, "Go inside, Baelfire. Now."

Bae took one last look at his father then ran into the house, shutting the door behind him. Rumplestiltskin watched him go in confusion, before his eyes drifted back to Belle.

"What the _hell_ have you done?" She exploded, stalking up to him and shoving him carelessly. "I thought you were going to use the Dark One to save Bae, not take it on for yourself!"

Rumplestiltskin reached out and grabbed her shoulders, frowning when she stiffened against him. "I can better protect you both this way," he said passionately, "I can keep you safe from all that would cause you harm."

"Rumple, we don't need protection," she protested, reaching up to grasp his arms as well. "Do you not see what you've done? You've just killed six men! In front of your son!"

"I did it to protect him!" He fought back.

"Get rid of it, Rumple," she said desperately. "This isn't you." She reached up, brushing his hair away from his face. "Your eyes," she whispered with a frown, "They aren't the same. They're dark; like they've seen unfathomable horrors."

"I _have_ seen unfathomable horrors," he hissed. "I _have_. And I'm going to prevent that from happening to Bae."

"And you think killing men in front of him is the answer to that!"

He sighed and stared at her helplessly. "I thought you would be happy. I have power. I can do so much. I can change our lives. Make it better."

"I don't want a _better_ life," she sighed. "I want my husband."

His eyes narrowed. "I am your husband."

He released his hold on her and allowed himself to be swallowed up in a cloud of purple mist. When it disappeared, he was gone. Not knowing what to make of what just happened, Belle rushed inside, determined to make sure Bae was all right.

~000~

Rumple appeared in a clearing several miles outside the village. He'd vanished in a fit of anger, and if he were honest with himself, he had no idea how he did it. He lifted his hands and stared hard at them, as if the answer would magically appear before him. Perhaps it would.

He felt strange now that the rush was over. The sensation of magic coursing through him was almost sickening, as if his body were rejecting it. And yet, he had never felt stronger. There were far too many sensations at once - enhanced sight, hearing, smell. He recalled events he knew he'd not been present for, and there were voices in his head, all fighting to dominate. It was too much, so Rumple pushed it all aside while he tried to figure out what to do next.

The war, he decided. The war had gone on long enough. And he had the ability – the power - to ensure it ended today. He'd taken this magic with the intention of saving his son, and now that was done. All that was left was for him to stop the Ogres. Surely then Belle would appreciate his efforts. He frowned. She had looked at him as if she didn't know him. He couldn't be too bitter about that though, he supposed. He had he not told her he was going to become the Dark One; he hadn't really planned on it himself. But hadn't he told her he would use this power for good? Surely she trusted him to do what was right. It didn't matter where or how he obtained his power; what mattered was that he was going to now.

He would show her. He would show everyone just what Rumplestiltskin could do. He'd vowed once before that he'd prove himself a worthy man, and now he was going to make it happen. He would return triumphant, and finally be the man he so longed to be for his wife and son.

Letting the power swirl around him, he tried to envision the Ogres, hoping that he could appear before them. He didn't know how all this worked, but he trusted in the magic. He closed his eyes and disappeared, not knowing where he would end up when the smoke dissipated.

When Rumple reappeared, he was at a camp near the front. He breathed a sigh of relief and took a moment to take in his surroundings. He was at the front, near the battlefield, which was now closer than ever as the Ogres advanced; much closer to his village than it had been fourteen years ago. Everyone around him scattered in fear, afraid of the creature that had just appeared before them. Rumplestiltskin glanced around curiously, watching as soldiers drew their swords, ready to attack.

Rumple stepped forward, dagger clenched tightly in his hands. The men all shifted in anticipation, and he spoke. "I am the Dark One," he said with an air of pride, "And I'm going to help you."

He heard a sound and turned his back to the men, listening as the familiar roar of the Ogres filled his ears. For a moment he felt intense fear, but he quickly scolded himself. He could face them; he could defeat them. He marched toward the source of the sound, ignoring the cries of some of the men behind him, calling for him to stop.

He came to an open field and saw a group of children hiding behind some bushes nearby. They were dressed in armor far too large for them, and they all looked terrified. Another group of children were in the middle of the field, trying to fight off a rather large Ogre. It smashed its fists on the ground as it let out a mighty roar, causing some of the young soldiers to collapse as the ground shook. Rumple could see that the Ogre was preparing to crush the children at his feet. The Ogre raised its fist, and the children cried out. With a wave of his hand magic burst forth shielding the children and making them vanish. The Ogre's large fist smashed hard on the ground, creating small craters in their wake.

"Hey! Over here!" Rumple cried out once the children were safely hidden behind the bush with the others. The Ogre turned and roared, and a moment later several others burst from the trees to join their comrade. They growled, then began to rush toward him. Rumplestiltskin remained motionless for a few moments before lifting his hands and clapped, causing a ripple of magic to fly forward, cutting through the Ogre's as if they were nothing. They burst, the magic consuming them into ash and dust that floated in the breeze, landing delicately on the ground and children below. He could hear more Ogres in the distance and continued to use his magic to destroy every one he could sense, not stopping until he no longer felt their presence. The children began to cheer, and Rumplestiltskin felt himself swell with pride.

He'd saved them.

Once he was finished, Rumple approached the children and knelt down before them. "Are you all right," he asked. They nodded, staring at him in wonder. He'd defeated the Ogres with a wave of his hand, and the children gaped at him as if he were a god.

He stood, motioning for the children to do the same, and he led them wordlessly back to the camp. When they arrived, battered and bruised and tired, Rumple threw up his hand to capture the camp's attention.

"Pack your things," he said in a fatherly tone, "We're going home."

The children did not need to be told twice. The prospect of home was once again within their grasp. A few soldiers, grown men this time, approached Rumple skeptically.

"What do you think you're doing," one of them demanded. "You can't take these children-" he gasped as Rumplestiltskin latched his hand onto the man's throat.

"I _can_ ," he seethed, "And I will. The war is over."

"Says who," the other man asked hesitantly.

Rumplestiltskin scowled. "Did you not hear me earlier? I'm the Dark One. And if I say this war is over, then it's _over_."

He let go of the man, who clutched at his throat, coughing. "Help the little ones pack. Then go back to your king and tell him the war is done. He can begin sending out aid to his people to help them become prosperous once again." He paused and then added, "He owes us that much."

The two men ran off, clearly afraid for their lives, and Rumplestiltskin smirked in satisfaction. It was enjoyable, to be in control; to have others do as he wished. Never again would he be looked down upon or mocked. Never again would his family know poverty or shame. It was a new age for them all he thought, and he'd been the harbinger of it.

He saw something out of the corner of his eyes and turned to see a young girl, no more than fifteen approaching him hesitantly. "Sir?" She asked, her voice small and strained. He smiled at her softly and she seemed to relax.

"Yes, my dear?"

"There are several tents with injured-" she hiccupped and wiped at her eyes. It was clear she'd been crying. "Soldiers. They need help."

Rumplestiltskin motioned for her to lead on, and he followed her to the row of tents that were being used as makeshift hospitals. When he walked in, the smell nearly overwhelmed him. The stench of pain and sickness was everywhere, and the poor souls on the bed barely looked like children. Rumplestiltskin looked down at the girl and asked, "How many tents like this?"

"Three, sir."

He nodded. "Will you help me?" He asked, crouching down to the girl. She nodded, and Rumple smiled. "Run along and do what you can to help the others. Find those whose injuries are the most severe and report back to me. I'll start taking care of these." The girl nodded and disappeared.

Rumplestiltskin took in the situation, feeling sick as he listened to the sounds of children crying in pain He moved to the closet child, a young girl whose arm was wrapped haphazardly in a sling. "What happened?" He asked.

She glanced up at him, blinking in surprise when she saw his face, but swallowed her fear and answered. "My arm is broken," she whispered. "And my leg," she moved back the sheet and Rumplestiltskin paled as he saw the girl's leg had practically been ripped to shreds. By all rights it should have been removed, but he doubted anyone there could have done it without causing a worse infection. She sniffed and whispered, "I can't feel it anymore."

"What's your name?"

"Anna."

"Let's take care of this, shall we, Anna?"

She nodded, and Rumplestiltskin blinked away the tears that had formed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the magic that swirled and raged inside. He summoned some forth, not quite understanding how but not caring, and waved his hand over the girl's arm. She cried out in pain as the bones healed and she shut her eyes and turned her head away. After a moment, it stopped and Rumplestiltskin whispered, "Look."

Anna glanced down, then looked at him with wide eyes. "It's better!" She exclaimed in amazement, moving her arm around with ease.

Rumplestiltskin nodded, equally amazed. "Now let's try this." He waved his hand again and the mangled leg began to move and the skin, muscles, and bone began to grow and stretch. She cried out in pain again, and Rumplestiltskin offered his other hand, barely feeling it as the girl gripped tightly. She began to weep when the pain became too much, but she said nothing. Instead she watched as the magic worked to restore her leg. When it was over, her leg was whole and healed and the girl bent it experimentally, tapping on it as well and grinning when the sensation of touch registered. She laughed through her tears and leapt toward Rumplestiltskin, throwing her arms around him and thanking him over and over. He was taken aback, but returned the girl's embrace.

"I'm going to go find my brother," she said when she finally let go of Rumple. He nodded and sent her off after making her promise to let him know if her brother needed help.

Rumplestiltskin worked his way around the tent, healing cuts and restoring limbs to children who'd resigned themselves to being crippled and lame. Each time he was rewarded with a hug, a laugh, a smile that declared they were eternally grateful to the strange man who had saved them from death.

He came across a girl who was sleeping, her matted hair plastered to her face. Her legs were crushed and deformed from the knees down. She was a pitiful sight. Rumple reached out and tucked some of the girl's hair behind her ear. Then he froze in horror.

"Morainne?"

The girl stirred and blinked, her eyes grew wide when she saw Rumplestiltskin standing over her. She blinked, then her brow furrowed in confusion. "Rumplestiltskin?"

Rumple nodded, a laugh escaping him. He sat down on the cot next to the young girl. "Yes, it's me."

Morainne frowned. "What happened? Where is Bae?"

Rumple was quick to console her. "He's fine. He's safe. I've come to get you."

"I don't understand."

"I killed the Ogres," Rumple explained gently. "They're gone, and once I finish healing everyone, I'm going taking you home."

Their eyes met, and Rumple saw how full of hope she looked. "You can make me walk again?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Yes." He touched one hand to her ruined legs, then offered her the other. "Hold my hand," he encouraged, "This will hurt."

Morainne nodded and gripped his hand. Rumple summoned his magic. The act was almost painful from doing it for so long, but he bit his lip and kept going while trying to ignore Morainne's whimpers of pain. She did not scream, and her silent resolution reminded him slightly of Belle. Belle had always been a silent force of strength, and he sensed the same of the brave young girl before him. It was no wonder Bae liked her so much. He continued to heal her, not stopping until he felt the magic declare there was nothing else to fix. He smiled down at her, and she returned the gesture, shifting so that she could stand. She was weak, but Morainne managed to take took a few steps with Rumple's aid before needing to sit.

"Thank you," she said softly, reaching down to touch her legs in awe. Rumplestiltskin said nothing, instead patting her shoulder before moving on to heal the last of the children.

Rumplestiltskin was halfway done with the tent when Anna rushed in. "Mister! Mister," she exclaimed. "My brother is in the other tent. He started shaking, and he won't stop!"

Rumple looked at the boy whose arm he was healing and told him he would return before running after Anna to the other tent. . He saw the boy instantly, frowning when he noticed he was not moving anymore. Blood and vomit trailed out of his nose and mouth. He was pale and his eyes clear. Rumple fell to his knees at the boy's side, summoning all the magic within him to bring the child back. He forced the magic out of him, but nothing happened. He gasped, the effort taking its toll on him and he looked across at Anna who was shaking the boy violently.

"Wake up, wake up! Please wake up!" She sobbed as she shook him. Rumplestiltskin felt the tears well up inside him, and he tried once more, searching for a way to restart the heart or breathe air into the boy, but no matter what he tried, the magic resisted.

Finally he stopped and looked at the girl. "I'm sorry. I can't do it."

The girl's face withered and she began to sob, collapsing on top of the boy as she wept. Rumplestiltskin glanced around at all the children who watched on, tears streaming down their face as they witnessed another death of one of their own.

"Please come back, Jacob," Anna sobbed. "Please don't leave me. Don't make me go back alone. Please, please! Don't go!"

Rumplestiltskin maneuvered around the boy and grabbed the girl, cradling her in his arms as she clung to him, sobbing. He did not know what to do. He was so sure of his power. He'd not thought that he'd face death. He'd been convinced that he could do everything, but not even the power of the Dark One could restore life, it seemed. He sat in shock, holding onto the girl as she cried, his tears sliding down his face as he held her close, vowing he would do whatever he could to make things right. Anger filled him that these children had witnessed this and he let out a sob, feeling burdened that even with all his power, he'd still failed.

Finally, Anna quieted and Rumplestiltskin lifted her off the ground. He found the other little girl he'd met, her fiery red hair standing out amongst the mass of brown and blonde. "Can you have the stronger boys carry out Jacob's body?" He said softly, shifting Anna in his arms as she wept, "We will have a proper funeral for him before we depart."

The girl looked at Anna, clutching to the Dark One's neck and nodded, her own eyes filling with tears as she took off once more to assist. Rumplestiltskin looked at Anna and asked, "Do you want to be alone? To mourn as you would?"

She shook her head. "He would want me to help," she sniffed. "He wanted to be a doctor. He liked helping people."

"Then we will honor him by helping others."

Anna stayed by his side the rest of the time, fetching things the children needed and helping to determine what was wrong with others who were unable to inform him themselves. Finally he reached the last tent - silently grateful he'd not had to endure another loss - and began to go through the motions of healing the last of the injured. He was weak and tired and ached all over. He felt as if all the pain these children had endured was now upon him and he wanted nothing more than to collapse, but he pushed on, determined to help every child in need.

~000~

That night they held a candlelight ceremony for the dead, honoring all those who had died in battle or from injury. Rumple used his magic once more to move the earth, creating a row of graves. He assisted the older boys in laying the bodies to rest, then used magic once more to replace the earth. The graves were adorned with flowers and small trinkets, a testament to the friendships that had been forged in the short time they'd all been there.

Anna knelt next to her brother's grave as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Most of the children returned to their duties when it was over. They were eager to leave and forget the horrors that had been forced upon them.

Rumple stood near Anna, watching her with worry. The guilt of his failure ate at him, and he thought again of Adi, whom he'd failed years before. This defeat opened that wound, and Rumplestiltskin hated himself for not being able to help this little girl.

Finally Anna stood, then jumped in surprise when she saw Rumplestiltskin standing a few feet away. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I just wanted a moment longer."

"Take as long as you need, my dear," Rumple whispered. "But try to get some rest. We leave at dawn for home."

"Home," Anna smiled wistfully. "I'm ready for home. I miss my mother."

"You will see her soon," Rumple promised as he reached out to her. Anna took his hand and they walked away from the graves. "It's about time you all saw your families again."

~000~

Belle paced. It had been two days since her husband returned practically a stranger, slaughtered men at their doorstep before disappearing into thin air. She was worried and so was Bae, who kept asking questions she did not have the ability to answer. All she could do was assure her son that Rumple would be back soon. To distract herself, she took to reading, even going to the temple where the clerics resided to try to find information on the Dark One, so that she might know who – or what - she was dealing with when he returned.

She had not had much luck, and was now pacing again as she tried to think of something. She had no other way to find out information. She certainly wasn't going to tell others that her husband had taken on some powers and was missing. That would not go over well.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard the commotion of people shouting and yelling outside. Belle took Bae, and they both stepped outside to see what was going on. People were running toward the center of the marketplace, and it occurred to Belle that their shouts were of rejoicing, not despair. She glanced at Bae and with a slight nod they both took off, following the shouts and pushing their way to the front of the crowd. Belle froze when she saw someone entering the village square with a horde of children surrounding him. He had two young girls at his side, a pretty blonde girl Belle did not recognize and -

"Morainne!"

Belle was taken out of her shock as Morainne's mother and father rushed forward. Morainne let go of the man's hand to race toward them, her legs working perfectly. The family embraced, crying and sobbing and rejoicing. The other children, the ones who had not broken off to go to their own villages along the way, began to rush toward their family, and the square was filled with the sounds of happiness and jubilation. It was then that Belle realized the man was Rumplestiltskin.

Belle walked forward, almost in a daze, to where her husband stood. He looked triumphant, pleased at his handiwork and Belle reached out to touch his arm. He looked at her, and she could see the fear in his eyes that perhaps she might be angry with him.

"You brought them all back?" She whispered.

He nodded. "The Ogre's are all dead. It's over."

Belle looked around, "They all seem-"

"They were broken; maimed in ways no one deserves to be," he said darkly. "But I healed them."

"You healed them," she repeated and he answered with a nod. "You stopped the Ogres. Everyone is safe."

Again he nodded. "No more war," he said. "From now on, only peace."

Belle's eyes shown with tears and she stepped forward, pressing herself close to him. "You wonderful man," she whispered as he embraced her tightly. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, sighing happily as he held her, strong and steady. It had been a long time since he'd been able to support her weight.

"I love you, Belle," he said, his voice dark and dangerous. She touched his face, the texture harder than his skin before.

"I love you, too," she whispered in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief calm before the inevitable storm.
> 
> I was heartbroken by this week's episode. It made editing this chapter so difficult.
> 
> Chapter 22 will be posted on April 11!
> 
> Special thanks to my husband and to Sirensong25 for their edits. You guys are fantastic as always!
> 
> And, so are you. Your comments, kudos, and favorites always bring a smile to my face. I genuinely appreciate it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. Characters, settings, and dialogue belong to the writers and ABC.


	22. Still Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knew the man beside her, but he wasn't quite the same. No doubt taking on a dark curse did that to a person, but despite her love for her husband, there was a flicker of hesitance. Despite her declarations that he was her husband, Belle had to wonder: was he truly?

The families began to disperse. Mothers hugged their sons and daughters clung to their father's legs. Many children approached Rumplestiltskin and hugged him tightly. He was surprised by the affection, but he returned their embraces, many of the children thanking him earnestly for saving them. He smiled warmly at them, watching out of the corner of his eye as Belle looked on in awe. He forced himself to bite back tears as Anna approached him slowly and wrapped her thin, gangly arms around his legs.

"Thank you so much," she whispered, and Rumple lifted the girl off the ground overcome with emotion. He held her tightly for some time, stroking the girl's hair affectionately. He wanted to apologize to her. He wanted to beg her to forgive him for not saving her brother, but the words would not come forth. He sighed. His regret weighed him down as he let Anna go, placing her back on the ground with a weak smile. She met his eyes, and an understanding passed between them. She said nothing, but he could see in her eyes the relief that the fear and suffering was over. She was ready to move on, and though she would do so without her brother, she was grateful. She turned and ran back to her parent's side, and they held onto her tightly as they walked away.

"Her brother should be here," he said to Belle, his voice cracking in sorrow.

Belle frowned. "Did the Ogres-" Rumplestiltskin shook his head and explained, "He was sick and I couldn't stop it. I was too late."

Belle watched, her vision blurry, as the young girl walked beside her mother, her small arm wrapped around older woman's waist. Belle sniffed. She'd been lucky; her son hadn't faced the same horrors most of these children had. She hadn't faced the loss of a child. She knew she should be relieved, but there was nothing but bitterness. It wasn't fair. None of these children should have suffered a war of man. "This war took far too many innocent people," she whispered, "Thank the gods you ended it."

Rumplestiltskin said nothing, but pride swelled up within him. He _ended_ the war. He was a hero in the eyes of the village. He was a hero in the eyes of the children. These families were reunited because of _him_. Parents had flocked to him in turn. They were reluctant to let go of their children, thanking him profusely. He could sense their nervousness. How could they not be? He was the Dark One now, and though he hadn't taken the time to look at his reflection, he knew his appearance was altered. Belle had said as much before he vanished a couple days before. He'd have to inspect himself later; he had a lot he needed to do. There were so many things he felt were changed, and it would take time to take stock of them all.

Not long after the group dispersed, Bae approached Rumple and Belle. He walked slowly, as if he were afraid a sudden movement might startle his father and spur him to attack. When he was within arm's reach of his parents he stopped and glanced at his father with a small, hesitant smile. "Thank you, Papa," he said, rubbing his arm with his other hand, "Thank you for saving them."

Rumplestiltskin regarded his son for a long moment, then stepped forward and pulled him gently into his arms. "It was all for you, Bae," Rumple whispered as he began to weep, grateful that it was finally all over. "I can't lose you; I'm nothing without you."

-000-

They walked home, Bae walking ahead of them. He turned back every few minutes, looking at his father curiously. It was strange, seeing him so familiar yet so different. He knew the man behind him, holding his mother's hand tightly in his now strange-colored one was the same man he'd always known; but the too-recent memory of his father snapping the neck of the Duke caused him so shudder. He could not reconcile the two images he now had of his beloved Papa. He couldn't believe his father had killed; had become the Dark One and yet now the war was over thanks to his efforts. It made Bae's head ache to think about how much had changed in such a short amount of time. He'd grown up with tales of the Ogre wars and the fear that one day it would be his turn to join the ranks and fight. Now those worries were gone like the very Ogres that had plagued his and other's nightmares for years. He wondered what the village would do now they did not have to wake every morning wondering how much closer the Ogres were and how many lives they'd taken in the process.

Plagued by far too many thoughts, Baelfire informed his parents he was going to go fetch some firewood. It had always been their way of getting him out of the house when they needed time alone, and both his Mama and Papa seemed to understand his need for solitude to process everything that had occurred the past few days. He went on, and Rumplestiltskin pulled Belle into their home, needing to have her near.

Rumple embraced her, nuzzling his nose against her cheek with a sigh. He breathed her in, taking comfort in her presence. She'd always been the solid rock upon which he stood, and he needed her quiet strength now. He was so overcome with everything: his mind raced with spells and magic and centuries of memories that he could hardly sort through. He was still himself, but he could feel the intrusion of the Curse upon his mind, and he held Belle tighter still, hoping she could somehow calm the waves that crashed in his mind.

She did not question him, but instead wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back, speaking soothing nonsense to him as his breathing began to grow steadier. She moved her hands down from his back to his waist, frowning when her palm brushed the hard metal of a dagger. She stepped back, only slightly so as not to remove herself from his embrace and touched the hilt of the blade that stuck out of Rumplestiltskin's belt. Neither spoke, but Rumple reached down to remove the blade nonetheless. He needed to show Belle the source of his newfound abilities. He held it out to her, half expecting her to take it. He knew what would happen if she did, but this was Belle. He trusted her. She stared at the blade before her, but she did not take it. Instead she cautiously brushed her fingertips over the blade, caressing the swirling letters of his name, and she noticed the slight shiver that ran through Rumplestiltskin.

He watched her in quiet anticipation, waiting to follow her lead. She removed her hand from the blade and dropped it to her side. "So you're the Dark One," she said. It was not a secret, but the weight of the words were heavy and it settled over them, stifling and uncomfortable.

"I am." It was all he could say. It was all there was to be said on the matter. It was too late for anything else.

"That means you _killed_ the previous Dark One in order to become him." Her tone was soft and gentle, but he could see her mind trying to grasp the thought of her husband committing such an act. Rumplestiltskin was not a murderer, but he found himself looking down guiltily as he answered, "I did."

"Why?" She asked suddenly, her eyes moving as sharply as his dagger, "When you left, I was under the impression you were going to _control_ the Dark One, save Bae, then release him." What made you change your mind? Clearly something happened."

Rumplestiltskin glanced down at the dagger and stared hard at the blade that was his strength and his weakness. "Anger," he admitted at length, "Anger, and a desire to protect what was mine." He sighed and looked at Belle helplessly, "I can't change what I've done, Belle."

She nodded, her shoulders heavy. "I know." They remained silent for some time, Rumple watching Belle and she staring at the dagger with hesitant interest. When she spoke again, her voice wavered, "How many people have _you_ killed?"

"Belle-"

"How many, Rumple? I need to know what you've done in the name of our son."

 _That_ wounded him, but he knew she was right. He'd done all this to protect their son; everything he'd done had been for love of this family. They should know the extent of his devotion to them. "The guards who attacked you and Bae," he admitted, "The Ogres, Cary-"

"The beggar?!"

He nodded. "He was the Dark One. I didn't know until it was too late."

"Wouldn't his name have been on the dagger, then?" She asked sensibly.

Rumple shook his head. "He lied. Well, technically. _His_ name was Zoso. That was the name on the blade. Cary was the name of the Dark One before him. I suppose he gave me the other name so when I came across the dagger I wouldn't figure it out."

Belle had a look about her that hinted she was brimming with questions. He could anticipate her next one, so he answered before she asked, "I have memories," he explained, "Glimpses of a past that isn't mine. Vague memories of other lives lived before me. It's a jumble but I know they are thoughts of the previous Dark One's in my head."

"Doesn't that drive you mad?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She nodded, remaining silent to let the information sink in. After several silent minutes she spoke again. "What are you going to do now that you are the Dark One?" She gestured with her hand at him and the dagger the question of whether he would kill others in the name of safety was left unspoken. But if that was what it took to keep them safe, then that was what he would do. And without being so blunt, he told her as much.

"Protect you. Protect Bae. I'm going to use it for good," he insisted softly. His answer seemed to satisfy her for she smiled and reached out to lay her hand over his.

"Good."

"I'll make you proud of me," he declared suddenly, reaching out to lace their fingers together, his new gold-green skin a stark contrast to her lightly tanned skin. "I won't be a disappointment any longer."

"You were never a disappointment," Belle protested, but Rumplestiltskin wouldn't hear it.

"I'll show everyone that you didn't make a mistake when you married me," he said, his eyes flaring with determination.

"Rumple," she sighed, scooting closer and cupping his face in her hands, "I _am_ and always will be proud to be your wife," she whispered. That seemed to placate him and he pressed his lips against her forehead, offering her a silent thanks and praying that she never came to regret those words. 

~000~

If there was one thing Rumplestiltskin disliked, it was change. He adapted when it was necessary, but change made him nervous, and he did not like venturing into the unknown. The power bestowed upon him had brought about many changes, but he adapted to them and made the best of what was happening to him. He began to dedicate time to practicing his skill. He needed to understand the magic that now flowed through him. It became increasingly clear that the magic was partly innate. The Curse was the source of the magic, and it did not take much to do simple tasks. He needed only to will it, and he could produce things from seemingly nowhere or summon objects from across the room.

Until he learned more about his powers and all he could do with them, Rumplestiltskin decided to keep the magic away from his family. He knew he could control it when performing simple tasks, but he was unsure what would happen when he attempted more difficult feats. He'd managed to keep it under control when he fought the ogres, but he'd been full of adrenaline and hadn't taken much time to think. He'd simply acted. Now he wanted to understand how he did these things, but he wasn't going to put his family in danger to discover it. Not when the entire point of this had been to keep them safe.

He finally thought of a way to understand what was going on within him. He conjured a leather bound book of fine quality and a long feather quill and ink and began to write. His training with Belle during their courtship was still such a valuable skill he thought as he wrote down spells and ingredients for potions and incantations. His mind raged with a storm of memories and thoughts and writing them down, keeping them separated and organized was a great challenge, but a great relief. On several occasions, Belle caught him sitting long after she and Baelfire had gone to bed writing furiously in his books and though it worried her, she tried to let him be.

One particular night she awoke, feeling cold without her husband beside her and sat up to see Rumplestiltskin's outline hunched over the table writing in complete darkness. Belle leaned over and lit a candle. She stood and approached him carefully, not wanting to startle him.

"I could light more candles," she offered softly, letting one hand fall to rest on his shoulder, "If you need to see."

He looked up and blinked curiously at her. "Oh, no. Thank you, but I'm fine," he assured her, reaching up to grasp her hand. "I can see just fine in the dark. And I don't want to wake you or Bae."

They glanced up as they heard Baelfire snore loudly from the other end of the room, signaling that he was fast asleep. Belle giggled. "Well, I'm already up, and I don't think anything can disturb that boy."

Rumple smiled endearingly at her before turning to write hastily again. Belle grabbed a chair and moved it closer to him and sat. She placed the candle on the table and leaned over to watch him write. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at her curiously, and she sat back quickly, "I don't want to bother you," she told him, "I'm just curious."

It wasn't safe to let her so close to the magic, not when he still didn't fully understand it all himself, but Rumple shifted slightly anyway and turned the book so that she could read.

"These are memories," he explained as he flipped to the beginning. "I'm trying to make sense of it all. There are so many things in my head I can barely keep track of what thoughts are mine and which ones aren't."

"That must be frustrating," Belle said as she turned the pages, looking at the pages of memories. She came across a list and pointed, "What's this?"

Rumple glanced down. "Deals that were made with the first Dark One," he explained. "I'm making an account of what sort of things were done over the centuries. I just want to know more about myself."

Belle frowned and stretched out her hand to grab his. "This isn't you," she said, "You may be the Dark One now, but you're still my Rumple."

Rumplestiltskin squeezed her hand and smiled softly. "Thank you."

They sat there in silence for some time before Belle pulled her hand away and began to flip through the pages again. She reached the last pages that Rumple had written in and frowned, "This is Zoso. He's the one who tricked you."

Rumple nodded. "Yes," he said, "He is."

Belle sighed and pushed the book back to Rumple. She felt anger toward the man that had deceived her husband, but she knew that anger was wasted. The man was dead. What reason was there for her to carry anger in her heart when there was nothing to be done about it? She could not get rid of her husband's condition without his dying, and that was simply out of the question. She rose and bent down to kiss Rumplestiltskin on the head. "I'm going back to bed," she whispered, glancing up when Baelfire snored loudly again, "Will you join me?"

He nodded before reaching for the book. "Yes," he said as he grabbed the quill and dipped it in the inkwell, "I'll be there in just a few moments."

She left the candle at his side and retreated to the now cold sheets of their bed. She lay there for some time waiting for him but eventually fell asleep, alone.

~000~

The next morning Belle awoke feeling strange. Where she had been cold the night before, now she was warm. She tried to move but quickly realized that she was being held down by something. She blinked sleepily and glanced beside her, a smile forming when she saw the strange color of her husband's arm. She'd fallen asleep without him, but now he was here. She carefully rolled over so as not to disturb him. He was sleeping soundly.

It had been a little over a week since the transformation, but it was the first time Belle had been able to properly study her husband without him reacting self-consciously. He looked at peace. His eyes were shut tightly, and his mouth hung open slightly as he slept. She studied his features carefully, taking in all the small differences in him. His skin shimmered in a golden hue that Belle couldn't help but admire. The skin looked scaled, but was as soft as the flesh he'd once worn. His hair, which had laid limp and wavy along his shoulders was now springy with curls that bounced with every move he made. She glanced down at the hand that was lying limp between them, and she regarded the short but darkened nails. Her eyes traveled upwards again and rested once more on his face. He was still handsome, no matter the physical changes. She was fond of his skin and the way it all but glowed. She had always loved his hair and couldn't resist running her hands through it now.

He stirred at the gesture, and after a moment she was met with his dark eyes. Where they had been brown before, they now seemed almost black, dark and mysterious as the magic that flowed through him. She felt drawn to them, to the mystery and beauty that he was. And yet, despite that, there was a hesitance. She knew the man beside her, but he wasn't quite the same. No doubt taking on a dark curse did that to a person, but despite her love for her husband, there was a flicker of hesitance. Despite her declarations that he was her husband, Belle had to wonder: was he truly?

Unable to help herself, her hand slipped down from his hair to caress his cheek. He smiled at her sleepily, letting his eyes slip back shut. He was no doubt tired, but she couldn't find it in her to let him sleep. She leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly against his. He sucked in a breath and blinked his eyes open, offering her an affectionate smile.

"What was that for?"

She shrugged with her shoulder that wasn't pressed to the bed. "Just studying you," she said simply. "There's so much to take in."

"And what do you think?" He asked as he lifted a hand to his cheek. He was very much aware of the changes as well. He felt stronger and more confident in his appearance. The skin and nails were taking time to get used to, but he was enjoying his heightened senses and ability to produce anything out of thin air. But he was more concerned with focusing his attentions on his wife at the moment, instead of his magic. So long as she still wanted him, magic could wait.

"It's different," she admitted shyly. "But it's not bad."

He scooted closer to her, holding her tightly against his chest. "I'm still me," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her once more. Belle kissed him in return, enjoying his attentions and forcing herself to ignore that his statement had felt more like a reminder to himself rather than her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say anything about why nothing happened when they kissed. But it's addressed later on, I promise. (Some of you expressed concern last chapter, which is why I bring it up.)
> 
> Thank you for all your kind reviews! I appreciate it so much!
> 
> Thanks to Sirensong25 and my husband for editing! You guys are awesome!
> 
> Chapter 23 will be posted April 18!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters belong to ABC and the respective writers. I do own Anna.


	23. Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, Papa,” Belle sighed, “I’m afraid.”

Rumplestiltskin traveled through the marketplace with purpose. He’d started off the morning relaxing with Belle in their bed and enjoying the simple pleasure of having her near. When they finally got up, Bae had been waiting on them with a small breakfast prepared. They ate together quietly, relishing the calm that had come over the house. 

After breakfast, Belle and Bae decided to pay a visit to Maurice. They set out almost immediately; Rumplestiltskin declined their invitation though, instead telling them he had some business to take care of at the market. With one last kiss between them, and after ruffling Baelfire’s hair with a wicked grin, they parted ways. Now Rumple was amongst the chaos of the market, looking for a small trinket to offer Belle. He wanted to give her something special, just because. He could conjure something if he desired, but he thought it might be best to browse the market square first. Belle seemed hesitant for him to use much magic; he would have to slowly ease her into getting used to it. 

The thought occurred to him that he might make Belle another dress. He knew how much she loved the one he’d given her as an engagement present, but time and hard work had worn the dress down. Its color had faded, and it was patched in numerous places where she had ripped it doing her chores. Perhaps a new dress would be an appropriate and welcome gift. He could conjure various things, so he was not worried so much about the expense of the material, but he also understood that Belle would not appreciate him spending a great deal of money on her. That would upset her more than going to bed alone. He was going to have to be careful with this, he reasoned. He could buy simple material and perhaps use magic to enhance it a bit, but not too much though. Belle was not a vain woman, but she was his wife, and he wanted her to have the absolute best he could give her.

A trip to Ebert’s stall was in order, so Rumple turned and made his way toward the end of the row of vendors to where Ebert’s stall still sat. In all the years since Rumple’s return from the war, Ebert had not changed much. Only his hair had receded, and he had grown fatter, but his hateful demeanor had not changed at all. As Rumplestiltskin approached the stall he could see a young woman standing before Ebert, and she looked distressed. Thanks to the Curse, Rumple could hear the conversation between the young woman and Ebert and the old man was being as lewd and unaccommodating as ever. The girl looked on the verge of tears, and something inside Rumplestiltskin snapped. With a snarl on his face, he stalked over to Ebert’s stall, intent on doing something he’d never done before: be brave. 

~000~

Belle and Baelfire sat with her father at his table sipping tea. Baelfire was excitedly speaking to his grandfather about the events of the past week, relaying the story of how his Papa had gone off and returned with power beyond comprehension. He was in the process of explaining what the other children had told him of the events on the battlefield when Belle interrupted. “Bae,” she said tightly, “Would you mind going down to the stream to fetch some water? I’d like some tea before we leave.” 

Baelfire frowned. “What are you going to tell Grandfather that you don’t want me to hear?” 

Belle gave him a sharp look, “I’m going to tell him how his grandson is not obedient when his mother asks him to do something.” Her gaze turned from pointed to pleading, “Please, Bae? I just want to talk to my Papa for a moment.” 

Baelfire nodded and fetched the bucket. He turned when he reached the door and looked directly at her, “Five minutes,” he instructed before slipping out the door. 

Belle chuckled at her son and glanced up at her father. He had gone from looking friendly to staring at her with genuine concern, and Belle let her pretenses drop. “Oh, Papa,” she sighed, “I’m afraid.” 

“My daughter? Afraid?” Maurice asked skeptically, “I’ve never known you to be afraid my girl.” 

“I’m afraid for Rumple,” she admitted, “He’s….changed, somehow. Not just his appearance, either. I’m afraid this-this curse is going to do something. I don’t know what, but I feel ill at ease.”  


Maurice frowned. “Do you think he will hurt you or Bae?” 

Belle quickly shook her head,” No!” She exclaimed hurriedly, “I’m afraid _he’s_ going to get hurt. I mean, it’s a _curse_. It can’t be good. I’m afraid something terrible is going to happen to him. And I’m afraid I won’t be able to help him if that time comes.” 

She lowered her head, staring into her cup of ale. She flinched in surprise when she felt her father lay a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, and he offered her an assuring smile. “You love him, don’t you?” He asked tenderly. Belle nodded. “Well then, trust in that love. It’s seen you through some tough times,” he said, “The love I had for your mother carried me through some of my toughest times. Even when I lost her, it was the memory of our love that kept me going. That and you,” he said, letting his hand cup her cheek. Belle rested against his palm and sighed, feeling strengthened by her father’s comfort. 

“You’re right, Papa,” she admitted slowly, “I just don’t understand the curse, and I’m afraid that one day I’ll come home to find that I’m no longer enough. It’s all silly I know, but I don’t want to cause him anymore grief over it than he’s already felt. People seem to like him now, for the most part, but many seem uneasy.” 

“Well, he’s the Dark One now,” Maurice reasoned, “If I didn’t already know the man myself, I’d probably be frightened as well.” 

Belle smiled softly at that. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything, Papa.” 

“I’m a father,” he said softly, “I fear for you. And Bae has already gone on about how his father did this to protect him. It seems Rumple has the same fears as any man with a family. Now he just has the means to better protect what he loves.” He sat back and crossed him arms. “Though, admittedly, I’m not sure I’m fond of this whole magic business. But I suppose he would know more about it than I.” 

Belle shrugged. “I hope so.” 

Baelfire entered at that moment, carrying the bucket full of water. He sat it by the hearth and scooped out some to pour into the waiting kettle. He placed it over the fire and returned to the table where his mother and grandfather sat waiting with cheerful grins. 

“Now, my boy,” Maurice said, wrapping his arm around his grandson, “Tell me more about what happened on the battlefield.” 

Bae smiled and began to talk animatedly to his grandfather again. At last, he ran out of things to say, and Belle decided it was time to head home. They bid goodbye to Maurice, and started down the path toward home. 

“You seem more excited about your father’s transformation,” Belle observed softly as they walked. Bae shrugged. 

“Morainne told me what happened. She and Anna witnessed him healing all those kids. It…it’s really great that he did that. He didn’t have to.”

Belle smiled. “Your father is a good man,” she agreed. Bae nodded, then sighed. 

“I still don’t like what he did to those soldiers though,” he admitted slowly, “I keep dreaming about it.” 

Belle ceased walking and grasped her son’s shoulders. “Oh, Bae,” she cried, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Bae shrugged. “It’s not that bad,” he tried to explain, “I’m not scared or anything, I just dream about it. Papa looked so angry.” 

Belle nodded, “He wanted to save you,” she said, “But you are right. I’ve never seen him like that.” 

Bae shivered slightly, “Maybe he’ll be better now that things are calm.” He looked at his mother with hope in his eyes, “Do you think Papa will be better now that the Ogre are gone?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Belle spotted Anna and Morainne racing each other. They were heading this way, and if Belle were honest, she was grateful for their presence. She was still uncertain about all her feelings regarding their situation, and found it difficult to soothe Bae’s worries when she had her own to sort through. 

“Bae!” Morainne called, looking healthy and strong. Bae flushed at seeing her and Belle nodded her head in the girls’ direction. 

“Go,” she said, “We’ll talk more later. For now, just enjoy yourself.” 

Bae nodded, and after giving his mother a brief hug, he met up with the girls, and they raced off to the nearby clearing, shouting and laughing the whole way. Belle smiled as she watched them leave. It was good to see him at ease. True he was impressed with his father, as was she, but she also couldn’t help but worry that things weren’t over yet. Deciding she needed some air to clear her head, Belle turned away and began walking toward the market square. She needed a distraction. 

~000~

Rumplestiltskin arrived at the stall and stood patiently to the side with his arms crossed, waiting for Ebert to notice him. The girl noticed him almost immediately, and her small gasp caused Ebert to cease his talking and turn to follow the girl’s gaze. 

"Well if it ain't you, savior of us all," he said with a slight sneer. Even Ebert's dislike of Rumplestiltskin could not prevent him from acknowledging what the man had done for the village.

"What seems to be the problem?" Rumplestiltskin asked.

"There’s no problem," Ebert said quickly, "Just tryin' to explain to the girl I ain't taking less than ten shillings for this."

Rumple looked at the girl, "How much did you offer?"

She glanced up at Rumplestiltskin. "Eight, sir."

Rumple glanced at Ebert. "Give it to her for five."

Ebert blustered. "That’s half of what I asked for! I ain’t listenin’ to the likes of you no how! You don’t tell me what to do-“ 

Rumple's hand shot forward and gripped Ebert's throat. Ebert's eyes enlarged, fear gripping him fully. 

“You have been nothing but rude to this girl since she arrived,” Rumplestiltskin sneered, feeling anger boil in his blood, “You’ve been wasting her time, and now you’re wasting mine. You either take her five shillings, or I’ll rip you apart….just like I did the Ogres.” 

Ebert sputtered, and Rumple let him go, watching in satisfaction as Ebert coughed and clutched at his throat. "Fine," he gasped. "Five shillings." 

The girl wasted no time in giving him the money and taking the silk. She nodded at Rumplestiltskin in thanks and rushed off, leaving the two of them alone. Rumplestiltskin leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. "I’m not afraid of you anymore, he hissed at Ebert. You’re nothing but a thief and a scoundrel, and I won’t tolerate it any longer.” 

“You think yer so tough,” Ebert snarled, “But you ain’t. Yer still a coward, hidin’ behind yer fancy tricks.” 

Rumple leaned close, his eyes wild. “If I catch you doing anything like that again, I’ll destroy everything you own. And I’ll see to it that no one helps you. You’ll find out what it’s like to be the outcast.” 

Ebert opened his mouth to protest but one look from Rumplestiltskin silenced him. He tugged at his shirt, trying to straighten himself up. Rumple crossed his arms once more. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?” 

Ebert nodded grimly and asked, “What can I do fer you today?” He glared all the while but held his tongue. It was a wise move on Ebert’s part. 

Rumple hummed, tapping a finger to his chin in thought. “On second thought,” he said with a hateful smirk, “I think I’ll take my business elsewhere.” 

Turning on his heel, he moved away from the stall, pushing past the small crowd that had started to gather due to the commotion. Rumple walked with smug satisfaction. He’d enjoyed protecting that girl from Ebert but more than that, he’d enjoyed the power he’d had over the man. It felt wonderful. He became so wrapped up in his happy thoughts that he did not notice Belle and nearly crashed into her. He jumped when she grabbed his arms and looked at her curiously. 

“What’s going on?” She asked, nodding back to Ebert’s stall where the crowd was dispersing. 

Rumple frowned. “Nothing,” he said quickly, grabbing her hand and leading her away. He allowed his thoughts to return back to what he’d been planning earlier: a dress for Belle. He’d all but ruined relations with Ebert, but it was better the man fear him than the other way around. Rumple had been afraid for far too long. Not anymore though. And at any rate, if the man refused to sell to him, he could always conjure what he needed. 

“You seem upset,” Belle said again, pulling him from his thoughts. She moved so that she stood in front of him and stared up at him expectantly. “What happened back there?” 

Rumple heaved a sigh and pressed on, pulling Belle with him. “Ebert was being his usual self. I merely informed him that I would not be putting up with his treatment any longer.” He frowned. “It’s something I wish I’d done long ago.”

“Telling him off?” Belle asked. She couldn’t blame Rumple for finally snapping at the old man. He really was horrid. 

“Standing up for myself,” he said. 

Belle frowned and squeezed his arm, “Just make sure you’re not mistaking that for vengeance,” she said softly, “I know he’s rude but now you’re the….Dark One… You have the power to be the better man.” 

Rumple was silent for a few moments before asking helplessly, “Where’s Bae?” 

“He ran off with Anna and Morainne.”

“That boy is smitten,” Rumple said with a chuckle. The tension that had settled between them over the talk of his magic lifted at the mention of their son. 

Belle smiled and leaned against Rumple, “He’s so grateful you brought her home safely. Anna too. She seems like a sweet girl.” 

Rumple glanced down at her in surprise. Bae had expressed his thanks on a few occasions but he had not thought the boy would be so appreciative. “It’s true,” Belle informed him, “He goes on about it to his friends all the time. And he was telling Papa more about it today. He thinks you’re very brave, though I think he’s a bit nervous with everything that’s happened.” 

“What’s happened?” Rumple asked with concern. 

“Well,” Belle began hesitantly, “Your transformation, mostly. I don’t think he quite knows what to make of you. You have this confidence about you now that wasn’t there before. You’re not the man he grew up with.” 

Rumple came to a stop and tugged Belle to face him. "I'm still the same man," he said, slightly hurt. "I'm still his father. I haven't changed."

Belle let go of his hand and gently ran her hands over his cheek, brushing away some of his hair that now hung down in curls. "You have," she whispered, "Not much, but you have. You're confident. You don't have your limp. Your skin shines. You radiate this…power. You're still our Rumple, but you _have_ changed." 

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I'm not saying that's a bad thing, Rumple. But he's known you his whole life and now you can walk and run and make things appear out of thin air. It's a bit of an adjustment for him," she soothed. "It is for all of us. It’s going to take time for things to feel normal again. But we’re together,” she said, lifting her hand to caress his cheek, “And in the end that’s all I care about. We’re safe and we’re together.” 

“And I will do everything in my power to keep it that way,” Rumplestiltskin vowed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “No matter what, I will keep you and Bae safe.” 

“Just don’t lose yourself in the process,” she warned softly, before turning out of his embrace and walking toward their home. Disturbed and confused, Rumple followed her home, wondering what she’d meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Rumple's realizing that he has power, and can influence things...  
> Not a lot happened this chapter, but things will be picking up soon. It can't stay calm forever. 
> 
> Thank you for your comments, kudos, and favorites! I appreciate it so much! 
> 
> Thanks to my betas, Sirensong24 and my husband. You guys rock! 
> 
> Chapter 24 will be up April 25, 2014. 
> 
> _Disclaimer_ : I do not own Once Upon a Time. I do own Anna.


	24. Spinning Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most important thing to remember when dealing in magic is this: All magic comes with a price.

Chapter 24: Spinning Miracles

Rumplestiltskin sat at the table writing. He had two books out, one dedicated to the memories and experiences of the dark one and another dedicated to spells, potions, and the like. His magic was innate. He could do plenty of things with merely a thought and a wave of his hand; but there were potions and spells ingrained in his mind as well and he had neither the skill nor the materials needed to make any of them. He felt an urge to practice and to get used to brewing potions and bottling magic, but he had no way to make it happen here. He was also insistent on not doing such potentially harmful things near his family, so he buried the desire and focused on getting his mind sorted out first. There would be plenty of time for experimentation later. Perhaps he could create another room on the back of their shack, solely dedicated to his magic. It was something he would have to mention to Belle.

He was in the middle of writing down the steps of a very complicated spell when Baelfire crashed through the door. Rumple grimaced as the quill struck across the page leaving an ugly black mark over the words. Scowling, Rumplestiltskin waved his hand, and the offending line disappeared. "Bae," he said tersely, "Please be more careful when I'm working."

"Sorry, Papa," Bae said as he rushed by, "Morainne wants to play ball so I'll just grab it and go."

"It's almost time for supper," Rumple said, putting the quill down to look at his son. "Your mother will be ready for you soon."

Bae nodded and moved toward the door, "Ten more minutes? I'll be back I promise."

Bae opened the door and glanced back at his father who nodded impatiently at him. Bae let the door slam shut behind him, and Rumple winced at the loud noise. He picked up his quill to finish writing but the spell he'd been focused on was gone. He growled in frustration and slammed the quill down on the table and stood. He didn't even understand half of what the spell required anyway, so what was the point? It was written in the Old Tongue, and even though he could understand it thanks to the embedded memories of the previous Dark Ones, he still did not quite comprehend some of the magic that he was writing down.

He decided it would be best to clear his head, so he sat at his spinning wheel and idly picked up a bundle of wool that was ready to be spun. His hands moved of their own accord, as this motion was more innate than even the magic that consumed him. He learned this skill as a child and had been surprised to find he was very good at it. He remembered the women's words over him; he would spin for kings and queens. No such thing had happened, but he took pride in his work nonetheless. He _liked_ spinning. He'd always been good at it and even with his handicap he'd been able to work and provide for his family.

He watched the wheel spin, and the creaking and steady motion was a salve for his chaotic thoughts. The motion lulled him into a languid state, and his thoughts quieted. Spinning was a solace. He could be productive and clear his mind all at once, and he had so much to make sense of now. He needed the wheel and its almost magical ability to ease his mind more than ever.

He also used the wheel as a coping method. After he was abandoned as a child he would spin for hours on end to try to distance himself from the pain of not being wanted. When the women who raised him died, he spun for days trying to forget the pain he felt at losing the only people who cared for him. Now he spun to forget about the events of the past weeks. The cruelty of Zoso who instilled false hope into him; the Duke of the Frontlands who mocked and ridiculed him. He tried to forget Ebert, even though it had been such a glorious and overdue feeling to stand up to him. He thought back to how it had felt to stop the Duke; he'd never felt so powerful, so in control. The man had been nothing short of a monster, sending children to be slaughtered at the hands of the Ogres. It made Rumplestiltskin sick to think about that, so instead he focused on the crack of the man's neck in his hands. The glorious sensation of knowing he had protected what was _his_. His mind drifted to the children he saved, and the boy he had not. He recalled Adi, the friend he loved so dearly who had answered the call of duty with gusto and had paid for it with his life. Regret and anger filled Rumplestiltskin as he began to spin faster, hoping he could pour out his grief into the wool itself and be rid of it once and for all. He spun and spun, barring his teeth as pain swelled within him. He could not stop. He would not stop until it was all gone and he was empty and free from all pain-

"Rumple?"

He stopped suddenly when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he glanced up, startled, to see Belle hovering over him with a look of wonder on her face. She pointed with her free hand and he followed her gaze back to his own hands, his eyes widening at what he saw.

"What is that?" Belle asked, her voice a breathy whisper. Rumple lifted his hands to see that he was no longer holding a strand of wool, but instead-

"Gold," Rumplestiltskin whispered in shock, "It's gold."

Belle dropped her basket to the floor and moved to kneel at his side. She stared curiously at the wheel, frowning when she saw the bundle of wool on one end was attached to the rope of gold that now lay in Rumple's green-gold hands. "How?" Belle asked, reaching out hesitantly to touch it. Rumple let some of it fall into her hands, and he grabbed more that had pooled on the ground.

"I-I spun it. Wool…into….gold."

Belle glanced up at him in awe, "Did you know you could do this?"

He shook his head, his hair bouncing as he moved, "No," he said, his voice dry but full of emotion. "I didn't."

"It's incredible," she whispered, dropping the rope in favor of touching her husband's hand, "It's like something out of a book."

Rumple turned to face her and cupped her hands in his, the rope of gold still entwined in his fingers. "Do you know what this means?" He asked suddenly, "Do you know what this means for us?"

"You can make gold," she said simply, "I'd say that makes us the wealthiest family in the village."

He nodded, "Not just the village, sweetheart, but the entire realm. I could make us richer than kings. You and Bae would never want for anything-"

He was cut off by a brief kiss. Belle pulled back and offered Rumple a tentative smile, "We don't want for anything," she assured him firmly, "We've been fine all these years; we don't _need_ anything more than what we have."

"But I could-" Rumple tried to argue but Belle shushed him again.

"We're a family," she stressed, "And while having gold will be nice, we don't need anything else. As long as I have you and Bae, I'll never want for anything."

"But I could finally give you what you deserve, Belle," he cried. He was eager to make her see reason, "I can finally give you all the things you deserve. I can give Bae what he deserves!"

"What you think I deserve, and what I want aren't the same thing, Rumple," she chided softly, "I want you, and I want you to be happy. All Bae wants at this point is for Morainne to notice him. I don't think you can make that happen." She giggled, hoping the jest would lighten his mood. It didn't.

"What would make me happy is to see you in silks and velvets," he said, "I would drape you in diamonds and jewels and give you the largest collection of books unlike the world has ever seen!"

"Then start there," she said with a sigh, "I've no need for silk or velvet. I've never had an occasion to wear a diamond in my life. But you know my weakness; I could never turn away a book."

Pleased, Rumple kissed her hard. She pulled away after a moment and smiled, "But only a few," she instructed, "And only on special occasions." She smiled wistfully, "We don't have the space for all the books I'd like to have."

"Someday you will," Rumple promised, "I'll make sure of it."

~000~

Rumplestiltskin was sitting by the fire, writing in his book. He still couldn't recall the spell from earlier and had instead settled for writing some simpler memories down. Near him, Belle sat next to Bae as the two of them examined the long golden thread.

"Morainne would be amazed at this," Bae said as he ran his fingers over it. Belle shook her head.

"We can't tell anyone," she said gently, glancing up expectantly at her husband to support her decision. He felt her gaze on him and looked up. She gave him a look, and he nodded.

"She's right, son," he said after a moment. Belle continued.

"We don't want every person in the village knocking at our door asking your poor father to spin them gold."

Rumple smiled absently at his wife. She was always so sensible. He pushed the thought aside until later and put his focus back on his writing. He was nearing the end, he could feel it. The thoughts that had once been loud and intruding in his head were now distant echoes that he could summon forth at will. Writing everything down had eased the pressure of remembering, and he could feel his mind growing easy once more.

He reached the last page of his book, which had been a few comments on magic that came from the first Dark One. He wrote quickly, not really focusing on the words themselves as much as getting them down. He felt one final thought come to him, and he dipped his quill in ink, ready to be done with the madness that he'd been living in for the past week and a half. He wrote the words, then stopped, glancing down at them curiously.

_The most important thing to remember when dealing in magic is this: All magic comes with a price._

Rumplestiltskin frowned. He remembered Zoso saying that very thing to him before he died. But what did it mean? It made no sense. Surely being the one cursed was payment enough to use the magic. He decided to dwell on it later because he was more interested in paying attention to his family now that his mind was clearer and calmer. If there was a price for using magic, he supposed it would not be too much trouble to pay it. After all, how bad could the cost possibly be?

~000~

Not long after the discovery that he could spin gold, it became an obsession of Rumplestiltskin's. Spinning was his livelihood, so naturally he did it often. But now he could make something worth far more than wool. He did not have to go to the market if he did not wish to. And really, the likelihood that Ebert would want to buy and sell with him now was slim. He'd caused a scene that day at the market, so much so that the people now seemed nervous when he was around. They didn't run screaming, but they did look upon him with a slight uneasiness that he felt more than saw. He said nothing of it to Belle, and he certainly said nothing to Bae. They were adjusting to his change already; he did not want them to be aware of the uneasiness that had quickly smothered out the gratefulness the people of the village had felt when he'd come marching across the border with a horde of children at his side. They were fickle people; their opinions changed faster than the seasons.

Despite Belle's protests, Rumple began to use magic more frequently. It was little things, mostly, like using magic to make the broom come alive and dance around the floor, sweeping up the dust and pushing it out the door. He enchanted their food to last longer, and he cast a spell on their pitcher of water to keep it full and cool. Firewood was chopped with a single sweep of the hand and small treats such as cakes and salted pork began to make their way into the pantry. Belle disapproved of most of it, but when she saw the delight in Bae's eyes over suddenly having more food, she couldn't bring herself to scold Rumplestiltskin.

It was only when he began to leave tokens such as dresses and other fine clothes that she felt the need to say something. Bae was won over by the magic now, and wore his new tunic with pride, enjoying the feel of fresh cotton that had not been patched and worn for as long as he'd been alive. Rumple began to dress differently as well, especially once it began to grow cooler. He now donned a thick red cloak embroidered with gold instead of his old shabby brown one, and though Belle admired the color on him, she still felt it was wrong to display their sudden wealth in such a manner. Especially when the people began to take notice.

However, when Rumplestiltskin presented her with a fine dress, once again blue, and much finer than before, she couldn't help but hold it up to her and twirl, admiring the way the lighter fabric swirled around her. It was still a simple dress, but faint traces of gold were hidden in the fabric. It was the nicest dress Belle had ever seen. Rumple smiled widely at her. He was glad she liked the dress he made for her. He wanted to give her more, but he knew he had to tread carefully. She was wary of his magic, and if he wanted her to accept it, he needed to ease her into getting used to it.

"There's more," Rumplestiltskin whispered to her as she carefully folded the dress to put with her other clothing. It was a fine dress, and she would wear it sparingly.

"I don't need more, Rumple," she sighed as he took her hands in his.

"Just let me spoil my wife," he pleaded. He never made it secret that he longed to give her the world, and even though Belle was reluctant to take it, she could not deny her husband. She loved him far too much to dash his hopes.

"All right," she agreed at length, "Spoil me."

Rumplestiltskin glanced over her shoulder, where Baelfire was sleeping on his bed. He now had a thicker blanket to keep off the chill, and his soft snores suggested he was dead asleep. Rumplestiltskin reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled something out, keeping it wrapped in his hand. Belle waited curiously to see what he was going to give her. Rumple smiled at her affectionately and took her hand in his. "Almost sixteen years ago I married you," he began, "And on that day I wished nothing more than to give you what you deserved."

"I got you Rumple," Belle immediately argued, "That was all I wanted."

"Even still," Rumplestiltskin said, "You deserve to have so much more." He knelt down on his knee before her, a feat he had not been able to easily accomplish in many years and opened his hand. Belle gasped as she laid eyes on a simple gold ring, glimmering elegantly in the candlelight. He slid the ring onto her finger and looked up at her with adoration, "I've always wanted to give you a ring," he admitted, "And what's better is I was able to craft it myself."

"You made this?" Belle asked, lifting her hand to examine the tiny band. It was not elaborate in any way; it was a simple ring, but it brought Belle to tears, and she laughed softly as she grabbed Rumplestiltskin by the collar of his cloak and pulled his up to her. "It's wonderful," she whispered, "Thank you."

"I knew you wouldn't want anything outlandish," he said as he traced the ring with his own shimmering hands, "But all the same, I wanted you to have something."

"I have you," she insisted, "But thank you so much. I'll never take it off."

~000~

Rumple whistled to himself as he made his way casually down the pathway. Belle was at home reading, and Bae was once again out with his friends. Rumple felt restless sitting at the kitchen while Belle was absorbed in her newest book, so he decided to stretch his legs for a while. He walked with no agenda, deciding to let chance dictate his steps. There was no rush, and there was no need to do chores or work tirelessly just to be able to afford a few scraps of food. It was freeing to know his family would be provided for if he cut down on his work load. Bae didn't seem to mind in the least; it freed up his day tremendously as well.

Rumple found himself walking in the direction of Maurice's home and decided to pay the old man a visit. He had not seen the man since his transformation, and it would be a treat to see the man's surprised expression at his son-in-law's appearance. The man was also family; perhaps he would be able to give Rumplestiltskin some advice on dealing with Baelfire. The boy was growing up, and Rumple was beginning to feel the effects of age (and maybe something else) driving a small rift between them. Having no father of his own to relate to, Rumple hoped that Maurice might be able to shed some light on what to do.

Rumple knocked on the door, remembering a time long ago when he stood in front of this very door, flowers in hand, waiting to take Belle to the fair. How far they'd come. Maurice opened the door, looking slightly disheveled. He blinked once, then stared for a long moment before commenting bluntly, "She wasn't lying about you looking different."

Rumple smirked and motioned to be let inside. Maurice moved, allowing him entrance. Rumple quickly made himself at home at the small table and looked at Maurice worriedly. "Are you all right?"

Flushed, Maurice sat down across from Rumple. "'Course I am," he said, "What makes you think otherwise?"

Rumple pointed to his father-in-law, then over to the bag that was filled with clothing and other goods. "You look like you're running away. In a hurry."

Maurice shook his head and sat back with a huff, "Not exactly," he said, "Going on a bit of a trip."

"What sort of trip?" Rumple asked suspiciously. Maurice wasn't one to travel much. Whatever had prompted this was clearly not good. Maurice sighed, realizing Rumplestiltskin wasn't going to give up so easily.

"I'm going in search of work," Maurice said at length. "Much as I hate to admit it, war is good for business, and now that it's done, I'm not getting any work." He chuckled bitterly, "Not that I was getting much to begin with."

"Wars are bad for people, good for business," Rumple mused, and Maurice couldn't help but chuckle dryly at the comment.

"I hear that," he said, pouring Rumple a drink, then one for himself. They touched cups and drank. After a moment, Maurice spoke again. "I'm going to some of the neighboring villages," he said, "See if there's anything for me.

"Belle will be upset if she found out you were keeping this from her. She worries about you."

Maurice smiled sadly, "She shouldn't have to. And anyway, Belle can't help me. I know she'll want to, but that's why I haven't told her." He reached over and poured himself another cup of ale, "I'm an old man; I've lived my life. I'm not going to worry my daughter over my troubles."

"I can help you," Rumple said suddenly. He shouldn't. He and Belle had agreed on that, but something in him desired to help. He had the power to change lives, so why shouldn't he utilize that ability?

Maurice guffawed, "You? My boy, you barely have enough-"

Rumple stood, cutting Maurice off. "I don't have the money," Rumple said simply, "But I can _make_ it."

Maurice's face twisted in confusion, "You're talking madness."

Smiling, Rumple stepped away from the table. "Am I? You forget, I'm the Dark One."

He waved his hand and in the middle of the room burst a cloud of purple smoke. When it vanished, a spinning wheel sat in its place. It was almost identical to the one Rumple had back home, only slightly smaller. Rumple glanced around with a frown. "You don't have any wool, do you?"

Maurice shook his head. "I have straw," he said with a shrug, "But I don't think that-"

"Let me have some."

Baffled by the sudden appearance of a spinning wheel, Maurice stood for a moment before turning and pulling a bundle of straw from a small basket and handed it to Rumplestiltskin. He stuffed the straw into the flyer and began to spin. He focused on his task, and his eyes slipping shut as he recalled the emotions he felt when the miracle first happened. He spun, adding more of the straw as he went and he did not stop until he heard Maurice gasp.

He opened his eyes and glanced down with relief and satisfaction at the gold rope that now shimmered in his hands. Maurice stepped forward cautiously and stroked the rope as well. "By the gods," he explained, looking at Rumplestiltskin in awe. "This is gold."

Rumplestiltskin nodded, his eyes glowing with pride. "Yes."

"Made from straw."

Rumple nodded again, as amazed as Maurice was. He could make gold out of straw. He could spin miracles. Maurice took the rope from Rumple and stared at it in bewilderment for a long time. When he looked up, it was with tears in his eyes. "This is real. Real gold."

"Yes," Rumple nodded. "How much do you want?"

"You could fill this whole room with gold," Maurice marveled, "Does-"

"Belle and Bae know," Rumple interrupted, "No one else."

"And so they shouldn't," Maurice agreed, "The village would break down your door for even an inch of this!"

Again, Rumple nodded. "So you must tell no one."

Standing, still caressing the gold, Maurice agreed. "I'll still go," he said finally, "A man needs to make an honest living."

Rumple spun the wheel a bit more, taking a moment to focus on the task. He pulled out a few feet of gold and cut it away with a breath of magic. After he rolled it around his fingers, he offered the coiled rope to Maurice. "Take this though," he stated, "And enjoy your trip."

Maurice opened his mouth to protest, but Rumple pushed the gold into his hands. "Please," he begged, "I insist. Let me do one good thing for you."

"I hardly deserve it."

"You let me marry Belle. You deserve all the gold I could possibly spin."

Chuckling, Maurice pocketed the gold. "I'll remember you said that."

Nodding, Rumple made the wheel vanish, and turned to leave. Maurice caught his arm. "I'll only be gone a couple days," he explained, "Belle need never know I was gone."

Rumplestiltskin nodded. "I know you don't want her to worry," he acknowledged, "So I will say nothing. Belle will never know you're gone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos!! I appreciate it so much! 
> 
> Special thanks to Sirensong24 and my husband (happy birthday!) for looking this chapter over. 
> 
> Chapter 25 will be up May 2. 
> 
> _Disclaimer_ : I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC and the writers.


	25. The Price of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're filthy," she exclaimed with wide eyes when she noticed his clothing was stained with blood. "Rumple, what in the world happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains violence.

Maurice happily made his way down the king's road with the gold rope coiled in his pocket. He felt light as air despite the weight of the gold, and he practically danced down the road. Things had not been well in recent years. With the war, he'd seen a fair share of business, but even then it had not been enough to quite cover all his needs. He made do with what he had, but it had come to a point where he had no choice but to admit things were not well.

His solution lay in the next village. It was larger and more modern than where he came from. Being a few miles closer to the city certainly helped matters for the neighboring village, and Maurice knew that if he could get some clients there, he'd be set.

Even if his endeavor failed, his son-in-law could _make_ gold, and although Maurice valued hard, honest work he wasn't too prideful that he couldn't go to Rumplestiltskin for help. As long as Belle never knew of his troubles, he would be fine. He could see his daughter and not fear that she would notice the lines that had started to form around his eyes and his forehead. He could enjoy time with Baelfire and not have to worry about his small bit of savings running out. He could relax now. Rumplestiltskin would cover him in his absence, and he would be back home. Everything would be fine.

He continued to walk and though he was feeling quite merry, he remained quiet and alert. He knew he should keep quiet on the king's road. It was not a place where peasants were welcome, but it was also the fastest road to reach the kingdom. He walked on enjoying the chill in the air and occasional burst of warmth where the sun was able to break through the trees and touch his face. He thought about how much he enjoyed the city, the bustle and the rush, and the crowded streets. The castle was a sight to see as well, and Maurice thought idly about taking Baelfire with him one day. Perhaps Belle and Rumple would come too, and they could make it a family outing to see the sights. Maurice had never taken Belle despite her desire to explore the world beyond her village. He sighed. Perhaps Rumple could give her the adventure he never could.

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Maurice stopped in his tracks. He was aware that the road was not a safe place, but he'd traveled it many times with no incident. Maurice didn't hear anything else, so he assumed it was a wild hare or some other small animal and shrugged off the strange noise. He was only about an hour or so from his home and he still had many miles to go. He thought about picking up his pace, but ultimately decided against it. If there were someone lurking about, running would be dangerous. Maurice did not want to give the impression that he had anything of value to be taken. His hand twitched, wanting nothing more than to reach into his pocket and touch the gold, but he resisted. He began whistling again, hoping that he was simply being paranoid.

He reached a small bridge that hovered over a river and took a moment to kneel at the water's edge to fill his small canteen with water. He drank deeply before filling it again. Rising, he jumped in surprise when he saw three young men standing above him on the bridge, looking mischievous and dangerous.

"'Ello, old man," said the tallest of the three. He had shaggy, dirty blond hair that hung in his eyes. His clothing was old and ripped, and he looked like a wild thing more than a boy. He stood flanked by his shorter comrades, both looking just as rough as their apparent leader. They looked no older than Belle, but something in their eyes hinted at a cruelty that should not manifest in such young and innocent faces.

"Hello," Maurice said, feigning cheerfulness. He backed away from the bank and moved to stand before them at the bridge's edge. "Might I pass? I have business in town."

The tall boy crossed his arms and sneered at Maurice. "And what business d'you have in town, old man?"

"My business," Maurice said cautiously, "Nothing terribly important. Just visiting an old friend."

"Oh, I'm sure," the leader said mockingly, "Old friends in a nice, rich city. Must be nice not to have to worry about where your next meal is gonna come from."

Maurice held his hands up, indicating he meant no harm. "I assure you," he said, "I've endured that struggle all my life. But it'll get better, I promise." He offered the boys a kind smile. "What are your names?"

"Our names don't make no difference to you," the leader said hatefully. "What _will_ make a difference is how willingly you give us what you got."

Maurice took a step back. "Now, there's no need for this," he said nervously, "What would your fathers think-"

"Our fathers are _dead_ ," the leader shouted angrily. "Sent to be murdered by Ogres!"

"It's not easy," Maurice said gently, "I lost people I loved to the Ogres as well." It was the truth. The Ogres had been causing trouble for years, and Maurice had lost dear friends at their hands.

"I don't care what you lost," the boy snapped, pulling out a knife. "But I'm going to take what you've got," he said, pointing with the blade toward Maurice's pocket, where a small piece of the golden rope had fallen out. "Looks like you got plenty to go around."

"I can give you some," Maurice offered, "I don't mind to help."

"It's all or nothing, old man."

Maurice straightened himself up then, no longer feigning kindness. "Now there's no need for that," Maurice said cautiously, "I'll give you some. I don't mind." No amount of gold was worth fighting those who could no doubt best him. He could simply return home, and let Rumplestiltskin know what happened. For a man who could make gold, such a small amount would surely make no difference.

The boy scowled and stepped forward, holding the knife out in front of him. "I want it _all_ ," he hissed. Maurice held out his hands.

"Very well," he said, "I'll not fight you over this."

The boy grabbed the gold and stared at it greedily. Then he glanced up and lunged forward, shoving his knife into Maurice's chest. "That's for wasting my time," he said hatefully as Maurice clutched his chest and sank to the ground. The boy kicked Maurice then, knocking the man over, then bent down to pick up the gold. He held it up for the others to admire.

"Who wants to feast tonight?" He asked, and the boys cheered again as their horror disappeared into excitement. The boy sheathed the knife and took off running over the bridge, as the other two followed. Maurice lay there, trembling in pain as he felt his life slip from him. His last thoughts were of Belle and Baelfire, the little family he loved with everything in him. He thought of Rumplestiltskin too and knew that despite his faults he was a good man who would care for his daughter. Peace entered him, and with a final gasp of air, his body went limp and still.

~000~

Something was wrong. He didn't know how or why, but something within Rumplestiltskin's being cried out in mourning. He'd given the gold to Maurice a day ago along with the promise that Belle would never know of her father's financial trouble. But now he felt a strange pain, not physical but magical, and something in him whispered that it might be connected to the gold.

He knew Maurice had left that morning, so the man should have arrived at the neighboring city by now. But something inside Rumplestiltskin's mind cried out that he hadn't made it. Doing his best not to panic, Rumple shut his eyes and envisioned Maurice walking along the king's road. When he could see it in his head as clear as day he flicked his wrist and disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

When Rumplestiltskin appeared, he glanced around in confusion. The road was empty. He stood for a moment, unsure of what to do, but the nagging in his gut urged him to travel. He turned to face the kingdom and began to walk. He remained quiet, listening for any sign of something amiss. He could see far ahead, a benefit from the magic that coursed through him, and in the distance he could see a bloody lump in the road. Without even thinking, he disappeared and reappeared right next to the mass on the road. He looked down and let out a broken sob. Maurice lay before him with his face down on the dirt road and surrounded by blood.

Rumple's knees gave away, and he collapsed next to Maurice. "No, no, no," Rumple sputtered as he rolled Maurice onto his back. Bile rose in his throat as he took in Maurice's wounds, stained with dirt and blood. Crying, he began to use magic, casting spell after spell, doing anything he could think of to save the man he loved dearly. Maurice had been more of a father figure to him than his own father. Maurice had accepted him, and allowed him to join his family. He never turned his back on him, even after Rumple had been shut out by the village for his act of cowardice. Rumple loved Maurice, loved the family the man had been responsible for giving him, and Rumple felt his heart breaking. He kept using magic, images of Adi and little Jacob rushing through his mind. He couldn't lose someone else. This was what he'd wanted to prevent; he wanted to save though he cared about.

Despite his efforts, he pressed on, using up all his energy to try to achieve the impossible. At last he dropped his hands to his sides and wept, shouting and cursing as he bent over Maurice and rested his head on the man's chest. Where there should have been a heartbeat there was only silence, and Rumple clutched at Maurice's stained tunic, his sobs turning into breathless gasps as he mourned.

Eventually he calmed himself and sat up, staring brokenly at his father-in-law's motionless body. Idly, Rumple reached into Maurice's pockets, searching for what he knew should be there. When he came up empty, he let out an enraged shout. Maurice was murdered for the gold. Someone had robbed this innocent man of his wealth and life.

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head in shame as he realized that Maurice's death was all his fault.

~000~

Rumple used the last of his energy to transport Maurice back to his home. Then he stood, his legs weak and wobbly, and trudged his way slowly down the road toward home. He would have to tell Belle that her father was dead. He would have to tell Baelfire. It grieved him almost as much as Maurice's death itself to know that he must tell his wife such devastating news. Belle adored her father, that much was certain. To hear of his death, by such a callous and random means, would surely break her in a way he had no idea how to mend. Baelfire had not seen the horrors of war, but had felt the bitter sting of children who had not returned home. This, would be the first time the boy would truly understand what it meant to lose someone.

He would have to act quickly to get Maurice prepared for burial. He whispered a series of spells over Maurice, cleaning the body and preserving it until he could help Belle arrange everything. Once Rumple finished, it was time to do the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. In a puff of purple smoke he disappeared.

When he arrived home Rumple stood motionless with his head bowed. Belle urgently ran out to meet him. "Where have you been?" she asked as she reached out in concern to touch his cheek. "You're filthy," she exclaimed with wide eyes when she noticed his clothing was stained with blood. "Rumple, what in the world happened?"

Rumple looked up, and Belle felt a sudden chill go through her. Rumple's eyes were full of sorrow and regret, and he looked as broken as he had the night he'd practically crawled through their door with a shattered leg. "Belle," he breathed. His voice cracked as tears began to freshly fall. He did not know he could cry so much; surely his body and soul were dried out by now. Belle waited, feeling frightened as her husband stood before her, looking at her with more sadness than she could bare. "Y-your father," he whispered, unable to speak any more. He lunged forward and clutched her to him, gasping out his sobs as he whispered apology after apology. Belle struggled against him and pulled away, staring at him blankly.

"What of my father?"

"H-he...Oh gods, Belle. He's dead."

She didn't move, didn't speak. Rumple waited, unsure of what to do. Finally she sank to the ground, and stared blankly ahead of her, unaware of the tears that now rolled down her cheeks in droves.

"No," she whispered at last, as her head shook in tiny, sharp jerks, "No." She glanced up at Rumplestiltskin, her eyes pale and full of despair, "No you're wrong."

How he wished he was. Rumple knelt before her, gently taking her hands in his. He was consumed with guilt, knowing all to well that when Belle believed him, she would blame him as well. Why had he given Maurice gold? He recalled what he'd written in his book, _all magic comes with a price_. Had the price of gold been Maurice's death? It hardly seemed fair.

"He was robbed," Rumple admitted, "Killed on the king's road."

Belle shook her head. "No. No, Papa's at home."

She leapt up, and ran toward Maurice's house. Rumple knew he could stop her, but didn't want to risk hurting her. Though he was exhausted, he moved himself to Maurice's home, and caught Belle as she stumbled into his arms.

"Belle, please," he whispered, taking her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "You don't want to see him."

Belle shoved Rumple, and opened the door. She rushed inside and Rumple followed, determined to be there when she needed him. She faltered when she saw his body. A broken cry escaped her lips, and she collapsed. Rumple lunged forward and caught her, and Belle curled into him, clutching at his shoulders as she sobbed bitterly. Rumple held her tight, not knowing what to say. His magic had failed, once again, and he had no other way of caring for his wife. His words were as useless as his magic.

He turned his head slightly as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw Baelfire cautiously enter the room.

"Papa?"

Bae looked at his parents on the floor, then glanced up and cried out when he saw his grandfather's body. Tears stung his eyes as he ran toward his parents and collapsed against them. Rumple adjusted, moving so that he could hold both of them. He pulled Baelfire to his side and gripped him around his shoulders tightly. Bae grasped at both of them as their tears fell, mourning the loss of their loved one.

~000~

Belle stood silently as several men of the village, Rumplestiltskin included, dug Maurice's grave. The cemetery was on the outskirts of the western side of the town, bordered by a patch of wild flowers on one side and the edge of a forest on the other. The men worked in silence as Belle clutched Baelfire to her. The boy had been eerily silent and though Belle wanted to comfort her son, she could not find the words. Instead she clutched her son tightly, and they both remained silent. She needed to hold onto something, feeling as if her world were breaking apart around her. Baelfire kept her grounded; he kept her from going mad. She had to appear to be strong, if only for him, though it nearly broke her to keep herself in check.

They watched on as the men worked, and finally Bae turned to look at his mother.

"Mama," he said softly, looking much more like a little boy than a teenager, "Why would someone do this?"

Belle shook her head, her sheer black veil fluttered in front of her. Rumple had insisted that he be allowed to give her proper grieving clothes. He'd promised nothing too fine, and had created a simple woolen dress, painted a deep back for her to wear. She'd taken it mutely, not having the strength to protest.

"I don't know, Bae," she whispered, and her voice was rough from her time spent crying. Belle had always been strong in the face of adversity and sorrow, but this was too much. Her father had been the foundation of her strength. He'd always encouraged her bravery and curiosity, even when she had defied the norms of their society. He'd wanted her to be her own person. "Let no one decide your fate but you," he told her as a child when she would come home crying because others told her that she couldn't do something. She had taken that advice and made it her motto. It was her battle cry against a world that tried to stifle her.

Now she stood at her father's grave, wondering why something so horrible could have happened to someone so good. Maurice had never hurt anyone. Even when he'd served the king, he'd been generous and merciful, a trait which often got soldier's in trouble. Maurice had a way about him that made everyone like him. He was accepting of all, and accepted by all in return. The thought that someone sought to harm him was almost unfathomable. Her father didn't deserve this. _No one_ deserved this.

She recalled Rumple's words, as they sat huddled on the floor of her father's house. He'd explained everything, his grief loosening his tongue and causing him to admit to everything. Her father had needed money. Rumple offered to help. Her heart fluttered for a brief moment at the thought of her husband doing such a selfless thing. It hurt her to know they kept such a thing from her, but she couldn't find it in her to be angry. Her heart was heavy enough. The thought that someone would murder her father over gold was enough to turn her against the stuff for good. What good was gold when it left a hole in her heart that no amount of wealth could fill?

As if drawn in by her thoughts, Rumplestiltskin left his post and approached her. He moved slowly, as if she were a wild animal that might recoil or strike if he moved too quickly. She glanced up at him through her veil, and he offered her his best smile. It was unconvincing. "Why don't you go home and rest?" He suggested gently, lifting his arms over Bae to squeeze her shoulders, "I'll come for you when they're done."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him."

He sighed and moved his hand to rub at the back of her neck. "All right, dearest."

He turned and walked back to the grave. Picking up his shovel, he began to dig again. He could have this whole thing finished by now, with a sweep of his hand. But he did not attempt it. It was best to do some things the old way, and the labor was good for him. It kept him from thinking of the wretches who did this and what he would do if he ever found them. And he would find them. But first he had to attend to Maurice. That and seeing to Belle and Bae were was his first priority at the moment. Once he had them settled, he would find whoever killed Maurice and make them pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maurice's death was not an easy thing to write. I admit I cried when I originally wrote it a few months ago, then cried again when I spent this week editing it.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for your kind words. I've had a rough week, but reading your comments and theories genuinely brightens my day. This story is one of the few things I'm truly happy with, so knowing you guys enjoy just makes everything that much sweeter.
> 
> Chapter 26 will be posted Friday, May 9!
> 
> Thanks to my betas, as always, for catching my stupid mistakes.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All recognizable characters belong to ABC and the creators of OUAT.


	26. All for Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment she was sure her son was safely away from her husband, Belle asked, her voice trembling, "What did you do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mentions of violence.

Belle sat by her father's grave, staring blankly into nothingness. She felt empty and lost; the sudden death of her father left her unable to do anything but mourn. She hadn't moved since the final patch of dirt finished covering her father's body. The chill from the day was beginning to set in, but she made no move to cover herself with the shawl Rumple had placed over her shoulders earlier that day. It had fallen since then, but Belle hardly had the energy to adjust it.

Bae and Rumple watched from a distance, not wanting to disturb Belle. Rumple leaned against one of the trees and fiddled with a twig while Bae sat on his knees and watched his mother intently.

"Papa," he said at length.

Rumple looked down at Bae, "Yes, son?"

"Will Mama be okay?"

Rumple sighed, and let his head hang low. "I don't know. I hope so."

"Me too."

Rumple met his son's eyes and offered his hand. Bae took it and stood, letting Rumple pull him close. Pressing his face into his son's curls, Rumple sighed. He wanted to comfort Belle, but he was at a loss of what to do. His hope lie in Baelfire, who would surely be able to reach through to his mother. A child was always of more comfort than others. Rumple recalled the baby who kissed his broken leg, believing his love could heal all the pain and suffering. It hadn't, but it had mended his heart and made the pain easier to bear.

The wind picked up, and Bae shivered. Frowning, Rumple pushed his son away to look at him better. "I'm going to collect your mother," he said softly, "I sense a storm."

Bae nodded. "I'll go start a fire to warm Mama."

Smiling, Rumple let go of Bae. "That would be nice."

Bae rushed off toward the house, and Rumple quietly made his way toward his wife. She was stone still, frozen in her grief. She said nothing as Rumple approached and knelt down next to Belle, reaching out slowly to take her hand in his. She blinked and looked down at the sensation, then glanced over to meet his eyes. She knew why he was here, that much was certain, and though it broke Rumple's heart to remove Belle from her father's side, they needed to go. It was sure to rain soon and he wasn't about to let Belle make herself sick.

"We should go," he whispered, hating himself for it.

Belle shook her head. "I can't leave him."

"I know, sweetheart. But it's going to storm soon. I want to make sure you're safe."

She said nothing. Instead she stood on weak legs and looked at Rumple wearily. "Very well, then." She took a step, but her atrophy caught up with her and caused her legs to give out. Rumple swept her up in his arms, grateful he could do so, and carried her back to their home. Her reached the door just as the first drops of rain began to fall. He entered their home, smiling softly as Bae looked up as he placed his pillow over the makeshift bed he'd created in front of the hearth. Rumple carried Belle over to the warmth and gently laid her down on the small pile of blankets and furs. She curled around herself, facing the flames, and sighed heavily.

Rumple began rubbing her back soothingly and asked, "Do you want anything, sweetheart?"

She shook her head. She wanted her father but, Rumplestiltskin could not give her that. Rumple decided it was best to leave her alone, so he stood and tilted his head at Bae, suggesting they leave Belle alone. A moment later, Belle's hoarse voice called out, "Wait."

Both father and son turned to look at Belle, who had managed to sit up. She looked a mess; Rumple had never seen her so broken and lost before.

"I want my boys," she whispered, lip quivering as tears began to fall fresh. Bae and Rumple were quick to act. Rumple pushed the spinning wheel close to them, and sat with his back against it. He pulled Belle into his arms, who in turn held onto Bae. Bae's arms wrapped around his mother as well, curling his head under her chin and whispering to her how much he loved her.

Belle cried, though she barely had the strength to do that. At length she fell asleep, lulled by Bae's gentle words and the soothing sensation of Rumplestiltskin running his dark nails over her skin. It was a solemn steadiness, one that was very much needed after such an earth-shattering devastation.

~000~

Rumple glanced down, sighing in relief when he saw that both mother and son were sleeping soundly. Bae was a heavy sleeper and would not awake easily. Rumple moved carefully so as not to disturb his little family, and he settled Belle onto her back gently. She stirred and Baelfire shifted closer, but neither woke from the disturbance. Rumple watched them for a moment, then turned and summoned his red velvet cloak he'd created for himself. Turning back to get one last look at his wife and son, he brandished his dagger and disappeared in a swirl of smoke.

When he reappeared, it was at the spot where he'd discovered Maurice. There were still bloodstains on the ground and Rumple's lip trembled at the sight. Turning away, he closed his eyes and focused his senses on his surroundings. He listened; his acute hearing reaching far and wide. Something caught his attention, and his eyes shot open. He could smell smoke, and his ears picked up the faint sound of drunken laughter. It was just across the bridge that stood before him, no more than a mile away. Rumple took a slow, deep breath and walked forward.

He came upon a small clearing just off the pathway. Three boys sat around a fire, singing and laughing in their drunkenness. They cheered as they shared a large jug of ale, each taking deep swigs, spilling more than they drank. Rumple watched for a moment, focusing on the trio. They looked like innocent boys just a few years older than Baelfire, but as he continued to stare, he noticed a rope of gold dangling out of the eldest boy's pocket.

Rumplestiltskin burned with anger but remained in his place. He fingered the dagger at his belt, but made no move to remove it from its sheath. Instead he observed for a long while, watching and waiting as the boys became drunker by the minute. At length he lifted his hand away from his belt and waved it in front of his face, causing his features to shift and change back to his human form. When the smoke settled he stepped out of his hiding spot, all grins and friendliness.

"Afternoon, 'gents!" He greeted them as he stumbled forward and collapsed ungracefully next to the eldest. "Seems you're in as good spirits as I am!" He produced a flask from his pocket and took a deep swig of the water within. He wiped at his mouth clumsily and raised the flask in tribute. "What's your reason for celebrating on this fine day?"

The eldest looked suspicious, but the ale had warmed his blood and loosened his inhibitions, so he lifted his own jug in return. "We recently came upon a small fortune, eh boys?" He said with a slur, and the other two boys cheered. The smallest one grabbed for a piece of bread that sat on a plate near their fire and took a large, messy bite out of it.

"We haven't had such a good time in forever!" He said in between open mouthed chews. "We're celebrating our luck!"

Rumplestiltskin hiccupped and took another swig of his flask. "I'll drink to that!" He said gaily. "Wish I could have my turn at some good fortune." He glanced at his flask and laughed obnoxiously, "Though I'd need to get off me bumbling arse first, but there's too much fine ale to drink!"

"Here here!" The eldest chanted as he passed around the jug to his boys once more.

"So," Rumple asked, giggling stupidly as he began wrapping an arm around the lad's shoulders, "How'd you fellows manage such a feast as fine as this?"

"It wasn't hard!" The second boy declared drunkenly, "Like takin' a sweet cake from a babe!"

"Or gold from a helpless old man."

The three boys blinked and stared at their new companion with uncertainty. Drunk as they were, their minds were sluggish and their reactions were even slower. Rumplestiltskin used this to his advantage and stood, charging the eldest boy and slamming him in a nearby tree. The boy was too drunk and confused to truly grasp what was happening, but he squirmed nonetheless. Rumplestiltskin tutted and reached down to yank the gold rope from his pocket.

"My, my," Rumplestiltskin sneered as he lifted the rope up with his free hand, "I was _right_."

The other two boys called out and charged toward Rumplestiltskin, their small knives outstretched before them. Rumple swung one hand out, freezing them in place. He then turned back around and smiled viciously at the one he had in his grasp.

"Looks like you've been… _caught_ ," he said with a wicked laugh before dropping all pretenses. "This was my gold," he sneered, "I gave it to someone I love dearly. Someone you _murdered_." He moved his hand upward, clutching the young man by the throat. "But since you seem so desperate for it, I'll let you keep it. For a price, of course."

He laughed again, the sound wild and mad, then proceeded to wrap the gold thread tightly around the boy's neck. The rope began to tighten even more as the boy struggled for air. His legs flailed below him until finally he was out of breath. When the boy went limp, Rumple let him fall ungraciously to the ground. Turning to the other two who remained frozen, he summoned two more strands of gold.

"Your turn."

~000~

Rumplestiltskin crawled back to his spot by the fire, careful not to disturb his wife or son. He would wait to tell Belle of his achievement later, after she woke. It was best to let her sleep now, and he wrapped his arm around her, his fingertips brushing against Bae's side. It was finished, he thought as he let Belle's steady breathing calm his rushing heart. He'd avenged Maurice's death, and all would be well.

Sighing, he looked down at his family, exhausted from their grief. He'd done this for them, he thought idly, letting one hand fall to rest on his son's head. He would protect his family at all costs, and nothing would ever harm them again. He smiled to himself as he drifted off to sleep, knowing that when he awoke, things would begin to mend.

Rumple jerked awake as he registered a loud commotion outside. His movement caused both Belle and Baelfire to rouse, and once they were fully conscious, they scrambled outside to see what the matter was. Rumple followed hesitantly, a heavy feeling of dread coming over him.

The market square was abuzz with frantic people bustling about, murmuring to each other in horror and confusion. Belle and Rumple pushed their way through the crowd, trying to keep an eye on Baelfire and see what the fuss was about. Bae stood frozen near the front of the crowd, Morainne and Anna on either side of him, looking just as horrified as he. Belle and Rumple stopped just behind their son, then looked out toward the center of the square.

Belle let out a horrified gasp and Rumple's eyes widened. Before them, laid out in a row, were three dead boys. A few men stood in front of the bodies, trying their best to answer the questions from the panicked crowd. People were crying out for justice and to avenge the murder of three seemingly innocent young men. Others were asking how it happened; how could someone do such a thing? One of the men managed to silence the crowd with his cries and lifted a long golden rope for the crowd to observe.

"It seems they were all strangled with this," the man called out and people rushed forward to get a closer look at the weapon. Gasps and cries of 'it's gold!' rang throughout the air, and in their distraction no one noticed two sets of eyes fall hard and unbelieving upon Rumplestiltskin. He said nothing as Belle stared in shock, her mouth gaping open. He spared a glance at Bae who looked at him with such fear and disgust that Rumple felt ill. He whispered something to Morainne and slipped through the crowd, breaking into a run when he was past the wall of people. Belle's gaze followed her son's then she too pushed through the crowd, lifting her skirts and running after her son.

Rumple glanced one last time at the crowd of people trying to figure out who would have done such a heinous crime, then turned and rushed after his family.

He reached their home and quickly rushed inside. Belle and Bae stood facing the door, and the moment their eyes met his, Belle put her hand on Bae's shoulder. "Bae," she said in a tone that left no room for questioning, "I need you to go outside. Now."

He glanced between his parents and though there was an argument on his lips, he wanted nothing more than to be away from his father. He nodded weakly and rushed outside, the door slamming loud and hard behind him.

The moment she was sure her son was safely away from her husband, Belle asked, her voice trembling, "What did you do?"

She left no room for him to deny it. He would not have denied it. He stepped forward and frowned when he saw a look of fear flash in her eyes. But this was his brave Belle, and despite her fear, she stepped forward as well and stared him down, waiting for his answer.

"I killed them."

He watched in silence as she breathed in sharply. Her eyes widened now that her suspicion was confirmed, and she stared at him with absolute disbelief.

"Why?" She asked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Rumplestiltskin hated to see her cry, so he instinctively reached out to brush away her tears. Belle stepped back from him as if she'd been struck, and Rumple looked at her in anguish. "They murdered your father," he replied plainly as he stepped forward to catch her by the arm. She tensed but he refused to let her step away from him. He needed her to understand. She had to understand.

"I found the gold, _my gold_ , on them. It could have been no one else. They were too close to where I found Maurice."

"And you strangled them," Belle finished, her voice dry and dull, "You _strangled_ them with your gold."

"What would you have had me do, Belle?!" He burst, stepping away from her in frustration, "Leave them be? You were _grieving!_ I couldn't just sit here and let your father's _murder_ go unpunished!"

"You could have gone to the authorities!" She shouted back, "You could have alerted them to your suspicions! They would have been tried! There would have been justice!"

"And was justice not served to them?" Rumplestiltskin countered angrily, "Were they not given the treatment they so deserved? Had they been found guilty, they would have been hanged! What difference does it make that I spared the courts of a few day's work?"

"It makes all the difference!" Belle cried, "Not only must I grieve for the death of my father, but I must also grieve because my husband is an admitted murderer!"

"I am _not_ some villainous murderer!" Rumplestiltskin spat, "I protected you! I protected Bae! I ensured they would never harm another soul again! I was protecting us!"

"And you _killed_ in order to do it!" She said, tears sliding down her cheeks rapidly. She lifted her hand to her mouth to try to hold back a sob. Rumple moved and pulled a chair out from the table and ushered her to sit. She did not fight him and let him ease her body into the chair as she covered her eyes with her hand and cried. Rumple knelt before her and waited until she calmed. Finally she removed her hands from her face and looked down to meet his eyes.

"You will admit to them what you've done," she said firmly, "You will confess that it was you. They murdered my father but their families deserve to know who killed them and why."

"Belle-" Rumple began, reaching out to touch her but she jerked away from him.

"No," she whispered, "You will go and confess. Now."

"And if they wish to bring about their justice upon me?"

Belle shrugged, and it hurt more than if she had slapped him, "You're the Dark One," she reminded him, "You can stop them if you wish. But they still deserve to know."

She stood, her movement knocking Rumplestiltskin onto his backside. She stepped around him and opened the door of their home. "Go."

Rumplestiltskin stood. "Will you not stand with your husband?"

She shook her head. "I didn't ask for this," she said brokenly, "I will not stand with you. This is your doing, and you will answer for what you've done. I will not abandon you," she said with a sigh, "Though by rights I should pack my things, take Bae, and leave. But I won't. I promised to never leave you and even now I honor my word. But you must go. On my father's honor I cannot let this go unanswered."

He fought the urge to scream and argue his cause. Did she not understand he'd done this for her? He hadn't thought she would relish the action, but he never thought she would have turned so violently against him. He'd avenged her father; he'd protected them. Was that truly so vile and repulsive in her eyes? He did not understand, but he longed to be in her good graces. Everything he'd done; every action, no matter how misguided, had always been for her. For Bae.

As he walked out the door to return to the market square and admit his deed, he wondered if he would always be doomed to pay such hefty prices for his actions. And would the price always be worth it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dearie, dearie, dear...
> 
> Thank you for your kind words. I appreciate it greatly! :-)
> 
> Thank you to Sirensong24 and my husband for editing.
> 
> Chapter 27 will be up May 16.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time.


	27. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd done what was necessary, and even though he would honor Belle's wish and confess it, he would not apologize for it.

Rumplestiltskin marched toward the market square with his head held high in bitter defiance. He knew somewhere deep in his heart, that it was the right thing to admit what he had been privy to the past few days and inform those in the village he had taken justice into his own hands. He could not regret it though, not even at Belle's horror and anger. He did not regret the lives he had taken. It had been right.

It had felt good.

That thought gave him pause. He enjoyed the feeling of the Duke's neck snapping under his fingers, but he'd been fresh off the high of obtaining glorious power, and he was determined to stop his son from being sent to his death. Now he was settled into it and to know that some part of him relished in the murder itself was a bit startling. He was not a murderer. He _wasn't_. And yet Belle had called him one. The village would as well. No one would see the gallant act he'd performed for the sake of his family. And it wasn't fair. His actions were always twisted and distorted into something they weren't just to appease the hatefulness of others. He'd taken the hammer to himself so that he could be there for his son, not because he'd been too afraid to fight. There had been fear of course, but only that his wife and son would be alone. Now he had taken the lives of those who had stolen from him and his family, but his actions would never be seen as right. He did not need to admit to his deeds to know that people would rally for his head.

Let them try to take it, he thought bitterly. He was done playing by the rules of others. He'd done what was necessary, and even though he would honor Belle's wish and confess it, he would not apologize for it.

The crowd was still gathered in the square. It was a chaotic scene, this murder that many viewed as senseless. He could hear talk of, 'First the scribe and now these young lads,' and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If they only knew. Soon they would. Rumple pushed his way through the crowd and stood in front of the boys. A few people looked at him curiously, but others continued to cry out for justice and answers. After a moment, Rumple shot a burst of magic toward the ground which resounded with a loud _pop!_ The villagers all cried out and turned their attention to the man before them.

One of the councilmen of the village stepped forward. What is the meaning of this, Spinner?" He asked briskly.

Rumplestiltskin regarded the people for a long moment. There were so many familiar faces, all of whom had either looked upon him with pity, disdain, or malice. Now they looked at him as if he were a hero, as if having magic and power suddenly made him worth their time. Perhaps it did, but he would show them what he thought of their easily swayed opinion.

"I know who killed Maurice," Rumplestiltskin said matter of fact. The people stepped closer, eager to hear what he had to say. Rumple continued, "These three _villains_ ," he spat, pointing to the corpses before him, "Are responsible."

Cries of protest rang out, but Rumple carried on, "They killed him in cold blood, for the very gold you are holding in your hands, sir." The councilmen in question, still holding the gold, threw it down in disgust. Rumplestiltskin giggled, and summoned the string to him. He played with it idly as he spoke, "They were drunk," he explained, "Celebrating their victory when I found them. This gold is mine," he said as he held it up, then let it coil into his palm, "And I don't like it when people take things that don't belong to them. So-" he wound the ends of the gold around his index fingers, "I made them pay." He jerked his hands apart, and the rope went taut, and the people let out a collective gasp. Rumplestiltskin giggled again, then dropped the gold on top of one of the bodies.

He heard someone shout for his arrest, but only a few agreed. The rest stood frozen in fear, and Rumple watched them menacingly, "Let this be a warning to you all," Rumple declared, "I don't like when people steal from me. And I don't like when people harm those I care about. If you want to prevent _this-_ " he pointed to the bodies, "From happening again, you would all do well to _stay away from my family."_

Someone again cried out for Rumplestiltskin's arrest, and Rumple laughed. "I ended the war. I saved your children. I have always done what you cannot. I have brought justice to this village. I've done what you cannot do. You cannot punish me." He smirked cruelly as he let some of his magic flair from his fingertips, "But I welcome you to try."

No one made a move, and Rumple's grin spread. "Thought not." He let the magic loose and swirl around him, and when it dissipated Rumplestiltskin was gone.

~000~

Baelfire opened the door and peeked inside. Belle was sweeping the floor, and her brow narrowed at the handle as if it had offended her. Bae entered slowly, wincing when the door creaked as he closed it. Belle glanced back and offered a half-smile to the boy with his arms full of logs and sticks for the fire.

"I didn't ask you to get firewood, Bae," she said with a slight grin. The boy shrugged and dropped his collection in the pile near the fire.

"I like to be useful," he said softly. He stood, staring at the logs for a moment before turning to look at his mother, "What did Papa say?"

Belle sighed and leaned against the broom. "They killed your Grandfather," she said sorrowfully, "For some gold your father gave him."

Bae moved forward and sat at the table, tugging on his mother's hand until she sat as well. He kept his hand on hers and squeezed, "Why did Papa give him gold?"

"He apparently needed it."

"And those three took it? So Papa killed them?"

She nodded, trying her best to fight back her tears. Bae lifted his sleeve and used the fabric to wipe at his mother's eyes. She laughed and batted his hand away, offering him another half-smile. "Thank you."

"I want to hate him," Bae said softly.

Belle glanced up at her son, "So do I," she agreed, "But we won't." Bae looked at her quizzically and Belle repeated firmly, "We will not hate your father. I'm so angry I hardly know what to do with myself, but I will not hate him." She gave Baelfire a pointed stare, "And neither will you."

"He…murdered," Bae said, looking conflicted, "He killed the people who killed Grandfather, but he still…" Bae sighed and let his head drop to the table, "I wish he didn't have magic."

Belle lifted her hands and ran them through Bae's unruly hair, "So do I."

"If I can't hate him," Bae asked after a moment, "Then what do I do?"

"Love him," Belle said gently, lifting his head up with her hand to make him look at her. "As best you can. Magic has changed him, but he's still your father. He did it for us, and in his own way he thinks that should be enough. It isn't, and we both know that, but-" She looked away and sighed, "But your father loves us. And he doesn't quite know how to show it. He feels he has to prove it to us."

"Why?"

Belle shook her head and shrugged, "I don't know. He's never felt that he deserves us. And nothing we say or do will ever convince him otherwise."

"It's not fair that he puts that on us," Bae frowned. "If you can still care for him after this, then that should be proof that you care."

"It should be," Belle agreed, "But your father is a complicated man."

"Everything is complicated now."

Belle reached out and grasped her son's hand. "We'll be all right," she said, "No matter what, I'll make sure of that."

There was a pop outside the cabin, and the sheep bleated in surprise. Belle glanced at Bae and whispered hurriedly, "Do you want to see him? You can hide if you don't."

Bae shook his head, "I'm not afraid of him."

Belle sighed. "I hope we never are," she whispered.

The door opened a moment later, and Rumplestiltskin stopped short in surprise to see his wife and son staring at him. He entered the room quietly and approached the counter. Grabbing a cup, he poured himself some wine and drank deeply. When it was empty he poured another glass.

"Did you do it?" Belle asked as she watched her husband warily.

He nodded, "I have done as you asked, dearest."

"And?"

He spun around to face her. "They're afraid!" He declared, waving he free hand dramatically. "They cower in fear of the Dark One!" He began to pace, speaking in an increasingly higher tone, "Apparently a man cannot protect his family without striking fear into the hearts of others! I wonder, do they truly think the law would have served those boys the justice they deserved?"

"The law is there to protect us-"

"Then where was the law that could have ended this war? Where was the law that demanded aid be brought to the pregnant wife of a soldier? Where is the law that provides for the starving families of deceased soldiers? Why does the law not care for its people, Belle? The law has done nothing to protect us, and I will not stand by idly because the law is supposed to do something. I will protect my family, no matter the cost!"

"But you defeated the Ogres, Papa! There is nothing to protect us from anymore," Bae protested, "We have nothing to fear."

"There is plenty to fear, Bae," Rumple said, fixing his eyes sharply on his son, "But I'm going to make sure neither of you are afraid."

He downed the rest of his drink and slammed the cup on the table. With one last look at his family, he stormed out of the house, slamming shut behind him. Belle rushed out to catch him, but she was met with the fading purple mist that signaled his departure. She sighed and wiped at a stray tear that threatened to fall. Bae joined her a moment later.

"What's going to happen, Mama?"

Belle pulled her son to her and rested her chin on his head. "I don't know, sweetheart," she sighed, "We can only hope for the best."

~000~

A couple days later, Belle found Rumplestiltskin standing at the sheep pen, watching with a focus too intense to be genuine. He'd spent the past few days avoiding his family, only coming in late at night to sleep for an hour or two or to take care of other business. Belle knew Rumple could hear her approaching, and she was relieved when he did not vanish. Maybe he was tired of running.

She stopped next to him, watching as a lamb tried to stand on wobbly legs, only to fall. When it stood again, Belle giggled, "He's determined."

Rumple made a non-committal sound. "Indeed."

Belle sighed and turned to better face her husband. He did not look at her, but she studied him nonetheless. His mouth was set in a deep frown, and his black eyes were dark and bitter.

"I don't want us to be at odds," she stated plainly. Rumple dipped his head slightly, but did not move otherwise. "I can't do this alone. I need you here, Rumple."

"I don't regret what I did," he said softly as he looked down. He fidgeted nervously with his fingers, "They had to be punished. Justice had to be served."

She reached out and touched his hand, causing his head to turn and regard her. He said nothing, but watched as she brushed her fingers over his knuckles, "I don't agree with what you did, Rumple, and we will never agree that it was wrong." she sighed, "But I'm tired. I need to be there for Bae because he's so upset and confused, but I need someone to be there for me. Nothing feels right anymore, and I just wish we could go back to the way things were."

Rumple turned his hand up, linking his fingers with hers. "I was crippled before. I was a coward."

Belle reached up with her other hand and caressed his cheek, "You are nota coward."

He sighed, "No. But now you must think me a monster."

Belle stepped closer and looked up at him hard, "You're not a monster either, Rumple," she declared, "You're my husband, and right now I need you more than anything else."

He breathed in sharply. "I need you too," he admitted, gathering her in his arms and holding her tightly to him. "I'm sorry, Belle," he whispered, "Not for what I did but for how I've hurt you. I never want to hurt you, sweetheart."

She nodded and clutched tightly to him [?], the grief she'd felt over the past several days finally manifested itself, and she cried. Rumple pulled her tight, running his hands over her back soothingly. At length, her strength waned, and she sagged against her husband, completely weary. Rumple gathered her in his arms with ease and carried her into the house. He laid her gently on the bed and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Rest, sweetheart," he whispered lovingly. He stood, blinking in surprise to see Bae standing there, watching him with wide-eyed curiosity. He glanced at his mother, then to his father and Rumple took a step forward.

"She's okay," he assured his son. Then he gestured between himself and Belle, " _We're_ okay."

Bae nodded and took a hesitant step forward. He had not been alone with his father since he'd admitted to killing those boys, and Rumple could sense his fear. "She misses her father."

"So do I."

Rumple nodded, but remained quiet. Bae watched him for several seconds before stepping forward, "Are you sorry?"

Rumple glanced at his son, then back at Belle. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you and your mother," he said, "But I cannot regret anything else."

Bae stood for a few moments before nodding once, then turned away. It wasn't a dismissal, but it wasn't acceptance either. Rumple watched as Bae pulled a book from the pile that was growing beside his bed. He was just like his mother, Rumple mused idly. Bae curled up by the fire and began to read. After a moment he glanced back and offered his father a small smile before returning his attention to his book. After standing still for a moment, Rumple quietly disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, wondering as he left what was in store for them next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things will not always be bad between them, but I must also warn you that it can only get worse before it can get better.
> 
> I leave for the beach this coming Friday, so I'm not certain if I will be able to post a chapter. I should be able to Saturday evening, but just to be safe, anticipate no updates until June 6. I didn't realize vacation was so close or I would have let you all know a bit sooner. But it snuck up on me. I will try to update Saturaday May, 24, but again, I'm not certain if I'll be able to. I do apologize for the inconvenience.
> 
> Thanks to my betas, as always! And thank you for all your kind words!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis.


	28. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are not touching my son with your magic," she said softly but firmly. "Besides," she said as she turned around to tend to Bae, "You've done enough for today, don't you think?"

"Bae, why don't you go out and play? The weather is getting warmer. I'm sure Anna and Morainne would love to see you."

Bae looked up from his book to see his mother glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. She was chopping vegetables, her movements with the knife precise and quick. Bae sat quietly for a moment, neck slightly outstretched, listening for any sign of footsteps outside. When he was sure there was nothing, he closed his book and stood.

"Morainne and Anna may want to play, but none of the other children will," he said with a sigh, coming over to sit at the table closer to his mother. "Ever since Papa's been on his crusade to protect us, none of my friends have wanted to play with me. They're afraid Papa will do something to them."

Belle's hands stilled at her son's words. She knew them to be true, no matter how much she wished she could deny it. Despite her husband's apology to them both for causing such pain, he had not relented on his determination to protect them from anything and everything. It should have been a touching gesture, but when his instinct was to destroy everything that even remotely posed a threat to them, it quickly grew tiresome. It had only been nearly nine months since the incident in the town square, but the deaths of four people still fresh on everyone's hearts and minds. And even worse, was Rumple had not learned his lesson. He was quick to make threats. He threatened Ebert on a few occasions, but so far they had been empty words. Belle knew, however, that soon empty threats would become actions. And while hearing of threats over trivialities was tiring, she preferred them to the alternative. She would not stand for anymore acts of violence in her name.

"Well, if you aren't going to go out, would you help your poor mother with supper?" She asked, reaching out with slimy fingers to poke Bae's nose. He laughed, wiping at his face and picked up a carrot and another knife and began to help chop.

"You should make some sweet cakes again," Bae said idly, "We haven't had them in a while."

"When I _do_ make them, you and your father eat them all in one sitting!" Belle laughed. "I never get to enjoy them!"

"Well, make extra," Bae said simply. He was rewarded with a slice of potato thrown at his head. He glanced up, watching his mother snicker as she held up another piece. "I'm not afraid to use it," she said, waving the slice at him menacingly. Bae tossed a small piece of carrot at her, which landed in her hair. She stuck her tongue out at her son, and instead of throwing the potato, held it out to him. He leaned over to take a bite, but Belle pulled away quickly, shoving the whole slice in her mouth. "Ha!" She cried in victory as she chewed. As Bae laughed, Rumplestiltskin entered.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement at the sight of his wife and son huddled around the kitchen table, Bae laughing at something his mother was doing. He stepped closer, even more perplexed when he saw a slice of carrot sitting in Belle's hair. He reached up and gently removed it, glancing at her curiously. "What have you two been up to?"

Still chewing on the large slice of potato, Belle could not answer, so instead she pointed at Bae who looked between them with wide eyes. "You started it!" He cried, his eyes bright with mirth.

"What did you start?" He asked, still holding the carrot slice. "A food fight?"

Belle nodded while Bae answered, "Yes."

Rumple 'tsked' and dropped the carrot to the table. "I can't leave you two alone for a moment, can I?"

Belle swallowed and pointed at Bae, "Your son apparently thinks my only purpose in this life is to make him sweets," she said with a wink at Bae.

"You mean it isn't?" Rumple asked as he sat at the spinning wheel, facing his family. "Then why on earth did I marry you?"

Belle's eyes grew wide and she gasped, affronted. Bae bent over laughing, slapping his knee. Rumple smirked, and glanced up at Belle, who was glaring at him, but a smile was slipping through her features. It was a rare moment for them; a true moment of joy and laughter and it was everything he ever wanted. They'd been marred by so much violence and fear for so long. This tiny droplet of fun amidst the storm that was still raging around them was desperately needed. For a moment, he was not feared and powerful. For a moment his family was not timid or uncertain around him. It was as it should have been.

"Well," Belle said, sliding the chopped vegetables into a bowl, "I see where my value lies. I guess I'll just spend the rest of the day cooking and baking. Never mind all the other chores that need to be done." It was said in jest, but she played the part well, turning and storming to the other end of the room so she could dump the vegetables into the simmering pot.

Rumple moved to stand behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and the foreign sensation caused Belle to inhale sharply. They had not really touched since the incident several months ago and it felt strange to have him so close to her.

"I could hire a maid," he offered softly, pressing his nose to the back of her neck. "Someone to help you out around the house. In fact, you would not need to do anything. You could read all day, if you wished. You and Bae could have more time to enjoy yourselves, instead of worrying about taking care of this place."

Belle shook her head and slipped out of his arms. She cast a quick glance at Bae who watched on curiously and grabbed a towel to wipe her hands. "I don't want a maid, Rumple," she said gently. "There isn't that much to do. I don't mind chores. I enjoy being busy. And at any rate," she said, gesturing with a nod of her head toward his waist, "No one knows about the dagger. Having someone here to clean and organize would surely stumble upon it, or one of your books that you leave lying around. You're so determined to keep so much of yourself a secret now; do you think it wise to let a stranger into our home and subject them to things you won't even let us see?"

Bae watched silently, glancing back and forth between Mother and Father. They seemed to be at a standstill, staring at each other with intense focus and frustration. It made him uncomfortable and he suddenly wished he'd listened to his mother and left to play with his friends. Rumple sighed at length and conceded, "I suppose you're right," he said softly. "No maid, then. But I could make it easier on you. On us." He wiggled his fingers and Belle shook her head, stepping forward and taking his hands in hers.

"We have managed for almost fifteen years," she said with a gentle forcefulness that left no room for argument, "We can manage now."

Rumple nodded in understanding, and turned away to sit back down at the wheel. He began to spin, and it came a neither shock nor wonder to Belle or Bae that the string that began coiling at his feet was gold.

~000~

"Bae, catch!"

The ball flew right past Bae's head and rolled away. Bae raced after it, failing to notice the cart that was moving toward him. Catching his foot on the edge of the cart, Bae fell onto the ground. He cried out in pain, his knee aching from the fall. A man appeared from behind the cart, a scowl set deep on his face.

"Hey! Watch where you're going you brat!" He yelled, bending down to grab to ball. Bae shakily stood to his feet, an apology on his lips, but when the other man got a good look at the boy's face, he stepped back in fear. "My apologies!" He said suddenly, reaching out to hand Baelfire the ball. "It was the donkey's fault." He began to dig through the cart frantically. "Can I give you anything? I feel bad that I caused you to get hurt."

"What is going on here?"

Bae and the man turned to the source of the voice, only to find Rumplestiltskin standing with his arms crossed, looking none too pleased. Those in the market had stopped and were now watching with nervous anticipation. Rumplestiltskin was feared, his powers and his determination to protect his family enough to cause most people to shy away from him. The man at the cart jumped back and stammered out another apology, "It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going. B-but he says he's fine!"

Rumple said nothing, instead glancing down to look Bae over. When he noticed Bae's knee was scraped and bleeding, he scowled, his eyes snapping up to the man. Bae grabbed his father by the arm. "I'm fine, Papa."

"See? No harm done," the man chimed in pitifully.

Rumple frowned, "Don't. Bother."

With a wave of his hand, the man was engulfed in purple smoke. Bae cried out, as did several of the villagers, but Rumplestiltskin was deaf to all of it. When the smoke cleared, all that was left was a small snail, big enough for only Rumple and Bae to see. Lifting his foot, Rumple smirked, but was suddenly jerked back by small but strong hands.

"That's enough."

Rumple glanced back to see Belle, A basket dangling from her arm and a frown set upon her face. He met her eyes for only a moment, then jerked away. He vaguely recognized the sounds of his son, wife, and villagers screaming and crying out, begging for mercy, but they were easy to ignore. He lifted his foot, deliberately, and shoved it down onto the ground, the snail crunching under his feet.

"Indeed, it is," he replied. He blinked, then turned to fully face Belle. She said nothing, but looked shocked and disgusted. She grabbed Bae's arm and lead him away from the crowd. Rumple watched on his anger melting into concern and confusion. He shot a hateful glare to those around him, causing them all to step back in fear, and moved to follow his wife and son.

When Rumplestiltskin entered the house, he found Belle already at work applying a balm to Baelfire's knee. Bae hissed in pain and Rumple stepped forward, extending his hand which glowed with magic.

"Here, let me-"

"Don't touch him."

Rumple and Bae's eyes shot to Belle, who was staring hatefully at Rumple. "You are not touching my son with your magic," she said softly but firmly. "Besides," she said as she turned around to tend to Bae, "You've done enough for today, don't you think?"

"I protected him."

"You didn't protect me, Papa," Bae said. "You killed that man. You always hurt and threaten people. This Curse has changed you."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head, "I ended the Ogres War," he said, desperately trying to make them understand, "I walked into the field of battle, and I made it stop. I led the children home. Surely, a man who's saved a thousand lives-"

"-Is done. A man who's saved a thousand lives can be done with it. You can stop doing things."

"He's right, Rumple," Belle said softly. "It's over. This needs to stop."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "No; I can't I need more power to protect you. Both of you."

"And what are you protecting us from, Rumple?" Belle asked as she stood suddenly, knocking her stool over, "Not the Ogres; they're gone. Not murderers. Not merchants. Who are you protecting us from?"

"I just want to make sure you're safe."

"We were safe," Bae insisted, "We wouldn't need protecting if you didn't have power!"

"Well, I can't just get rid of it," Rumple hissed, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"Have you tried?"

"The only way to get rid of the Curse is if someone kills me with the dagger," Rumple snapped, "Is that what you want, Bae? For your father to die?"

"Do not talk to him like that," Belle hissed, "He's done nothing to deserve anything of this."

"He's asking the impossible, Belle," Rumplestiltskin replied angrily, "You're both asking the impossible."

"What if I found a way?"

Rumple and Belle stopped arguing and looked at their son. Bae continued, hopeful, "If I found a way to help you get rid of your powers and keep you alive, would you do it?"

"Why is this so important to you, Bae?" Rumple sighed. He didn't understand. Neither of them understood. All the threats, all the times he'd gone after someone, it had been to ensure they had nothing to fear. All the deals he made in nearby villages were to ensure that his family had nice clothing, the most wonderful books, and the nicest things. He would – he could – give them the world, and he didn't understand why they seemed determined to remain in this hovel. They could be so much more. They could have so much more, but instead they asked for the one thing he was not willing to give them. He needed his powers. He was strong, whole. He could walk and run. He could make gold. He could bring forth anything any of them wanted, and still they were not grateful.

"I want things to be how they were before. I want us to be happy. Normal. I want my father back."

Rumple glanced back and forth between Belle and Baelfire. Their gazes matched, looking at him pleadingly. He could see he was outnumbered. They would never change their minds. He sighed.

"All I want is for you to be happy. I want you both to be happy. So if that's what you want, then fine."

Bae smiled and hopped off the table where he'd been siting. He stuck out his hand to his father, "Deal?"

Resigned, Rumple took his son's hand. Glancing at Belle despairingly, he nodded, "Deal."

~000~

The next day, Bae sat in the forest, thinking. His parents had gone for a walk to discuss some things, and Bae had remained behind, wanting to work out a plan for saving his father. The tension between his family was thick and uncomfortable, and Bae knew if he didn't find a way to save his father, the divide would only grow and soon it would be unfixable. His mother was already fed up with his father's actions. And Bae was afraid. He loved his father, of course. It was why he was so determined to save him, but Bae could no longer look at the man who had once been so gentle and loving and not feel fear. And Bae did not want to be afraid of his father any longer. Chin resting in his hands, Bae began to mull over ideas. He knew nothing about curses and therefore had no idea how one went about breaking them. None of his books spoke of curses, and his Papa's books were off limits to him. Sighing, Bae rubbed his hands over his face. What was he going to do?

A snapping twig brought him out of his thoughts and he smiled when he saw Anna and Morainne walking together carrying flowers. They waved to Bae in unison and approached him.

"We saw you walking this way," Morainne said with a cheerful smile, "Thought you might like some company."

"And you aren't afraid to come near me?" Bae asked, even as he made room for the girls to sit. He blushed as Morainne took a seat next to him.

Anna shook her head as she sat on the ground in front of them. "Your father is scary, but he wouldn't hurt us. He saved us."

"He's different not, though," Bae sighed, "I'm afraid."

Morainne nodded sympathetically, "I don't blame you," She said as she touched his hand, "But maybe things will get better soon."

"I hope so," Bae replied, "He said he'll change back if I find a way. I just don't know where to look. How does someone break a curse?"

"The Reul Ghorn could do it," Morainne said simply.

"Who?" Bae asked, leaning forward with interest.

"The Reul Ghorm," Morainne repeated. " I heard about it when I was in the trenches. The other soldiers talked about it," She looked to Anna for approval, and the blonde girl nodded.

"Reul Ghorm is an ancient being that rules the night. The original power," Anna explained, "The soldiers talked about her as if she were the most powerful creature alive."

"Bigger than Papa?" Bae asked with excitement.

"Bigger than anything," Morainne confirmed dramatically.

"Did they ever say how to find this Reul Ghorm?" Bae asked.

The girls nodded and began to tell Baelfire the stories they'd heard of how to summon the most powerful being in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to be back. I've missed posting and I hope you guys have missed me!
> 
> One of the things I've struggled with is the fact that the show doesn't give us any real timeline for Rumple's spiral into true Dark One-ness. We know what happens, but how long? Over a few months? A year? It's something I've had to work with, so that's why there's been a nine month time skip. It's not ideal, but it's necessary. He's not going to lose his shit in the span of a week, but I also don't want to spend 10 chapters detailing every single little moment of that. Not sure if this is something that anyone has an issue with (no one has said anything) but I thought you might like to know my reasoning for there being another jump in time.
> 
> Thank you for your kind words and encouragement with this story. I'm almost finished writing it, but have no worries, you still have plenty to experience! And I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Chapter 29 will be posted Friday, June 13!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. OUAT belongs to ABC, and the respective writers.


	29. Blue and Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But know this," she warned, "If you aren't careful, you're going to lose him."

Chapter 29: Blue and Green

Baelfire returned home in time for supper. Things still seemed tense between his parents, as they hardly met each other's eyes nor spoke a word. But Bae couldn't bring himself to mind. He had a way to save his father. As he ate, he thought about what his friends had said, grateful that something good had come from their brief time away at war. He toyed with the idea of inviting them along, but thought better of it. It would be best to do it as quickly as possible, so he could restore his life to the way it had once been: simple and peaceful.

He scarfed down his food, then leapt up and grabbed his shawl. His parents watched him curiously, before finally Belle spoke up. "What are you doing, Bae?" She looked concerned, so Bae flashed her a smile to assuage her fears.

"I'm going out….to get firewood," Bae said, the well-worn excuse not fooling anyone.

"We're not going to argue, Bae," Belle said softly, tossing a sharp look at her husband, "You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

Bae shook his head and headed toward the door. "I have something important I need to do."

"Such as?" Rumple asked suspiciously. Bae shrugged, not feeling an explanation was owed just yet.

"It's a secret," he declared, "And I have to go. I'll be back soon." He gave his parents no time to protest, and ran out the door.

"Be back in an hour!" Belle called out, rolling her eyes as he son vanished. She suspected he was either avoiding them, or sneaking out to see Morainne. Despite the hope that it would be the latter, she knew it was the former. Rumplestiltskin's magic was tearing their family apart. Once they'd been so close, so happy. Now her son snuck out at night, even knowing his father would probably tear the town apart in a panic if he were even a minute late.

Rumple glanced at Belle with obvious distaste, "You shouldn't let him go out after dark."

"And you shouldn't smother him," Belle snapped immediately. Rumplestiltskin winced at her words and Belle sighed heavily, "I'm not fighting with you over this," she said as she stood to clear the dishes. "Until you can understand that you killed a man for no reason, I don't see how we'll ever agree."

"I was protecting _our_ son."

"We've already had this discussion," Belle sighed wearily, "And it's clear that neither of us are willing to change our minds. But know this," she warned, "If you aren't careful, you're going to lose him."

"What are you saying?" His voice was low, dangerous. Now he had magic, he didn't take well to threats. Belle just wished she could show him she wasn't threatening him. She was trying to make him see the reason that he had so clearly sacrificed for power.

"I'm saying, "Belle stressed, calmly, "That if you keep this up, he's going to resent you for it. Gods know he won't find a way to end the curse, but while he has hope, you need to try to loosen your grip. Because once he realizes this," she said, gesturing to Rumple, "Isn't going away, he's going to be disappointed. And if you can't control yourself and stop _killing_ people every time he gets a scraped knee, he's going to come to hate you. And I can't see that happen."

Turning away, Belle began to clean the dishes, leaving Rumple to stare after her, her words stinging him to the core.

"I'm doing the best I can," he said forlornly, "Why can you not see that?"

She didn't turn to face him, but she stopped cleaning and gripped the edge of the counter. "Doing your best is providing him with books and clothing," she said softly, "He has that. You've provided for him. He has a good home, loving parents. What he doesn't need is the entire village to be afraid of him because they don't know if his father is going to appear and attack them."

"Nothing I do will ever be good enough, will it," Rumple snapped. "I've never been good enough."

"That's your own fears talking," Belle said, finally turning to look at Rumple, "Not once have I ever said that. I've never thought it. I've never believed it. But until _you_ believe it," she sighed, "Then there's nothing left for us to discuss. Because the only thing more powerful than your magic, is your stubbornness."

With that, she slipped by him and grabbed a book. She curled up near the hearth and began to read, the gesture plainly stating that she was done with the conversation and would allow no interruptions. Eyes narrowing, Rumple turned and threw himself on the bed, arms crossed as he stared menacingly at the ceiling.

~000~

Bae ran to the woods, hope bubbling in his chest. If what Morainne and Anna said was true, his father would be back to normal in no time. He couldn't wait to return home and share his success with his parents. He knew his mother would be pleased; he couldn't say the same for his father. But they'd made a deal, and Bae knew his father would keep it.

Thoughts of the life before filled Bae's mind. He remembered his Papa, meek, lame, and vulnerable. But that man had been so caring, so full of love and laughter. Bae smiled as he ran, hoping hard that life would go back to the way it had been before magic had tainted their lives. He slowed, then. How could it? He'd witnessed his father kill. His grandfather was dead because of magic gold. Their lives had been tainted, and nothing would ever wipe away the stains that covered them. For a moment, Bae felt doubt. Until then he'd been so certain of his actions, but at this point, did it matter? His father was the Dark One. The damage had been done.

Balling his fists, Bae shook his head and banished away his doubt. He could prevent further incidents. The past was done, and though it hurt, they could learn from it. He wasn't going to stand by and let this curse consume his father. It would surely tear them apart. He recalled his mother's words, to love his father no matter what, and he did. But he was afraid. His mother was a fearless woman, but even he could see the worry cloud the blue of her eyes. She was afraid. Not for herself, no. His mother was far too brave for that, but he still recognized fear. She feared for his Papa. She feared for him.

He would do this for his mother, if nothing else. Bae believed that, above all things, his mother deserved much more than this. And if it were in his power to give his mother what she wanted – her husband – he would do it, no matter the cost.

Realizing he was standing in a small clearing, near where he'd first learned of the Reul Ghorm, he decided it was as good a place as any to summon the magical being. _Using magic to get rid of magic _, Bae thought to himself, _Mama will find it terribly ironic_. Taking a deep breath, he puffed out his chest, summoned the courage his mother always spoke of, and cried out, "Reul Ghrom! Are you there? Please make yourself known to me."__

__For a moment there was nothing, and Bae contemplated trying again quickly, before he lost his nerve. Then a bright blue light appeared, blinding him momentarily. When it dimmed, Bae looked up to see a small, strange creature floating before him. She was pale with dark hair that was curled and piled messily on her head. Her wings fluttered furiously, and the blue tendrils of her skirt floated around her in elegant waves. She watched him curiously for a moment, as he did her, then finally, Bae spoke._ _

__"Can you help me?"_ _

__The Reul Ghorm dipped her head in acquiescence. "I can help."_ _

__Bae hesitated for a moment. "And I can trust you?"_ _

__Again, the small creature nodded. "There is good magic and dark magic. I happen to be on the right side."_ _

__"Are you a fairy?" Bae had heard of fairies. They featured prominently in one of the books his father had given him. The reality and the fiction were drastically different._ _

__"I am." Then she frowned. "And you're not untouched by magic, are you, child? There's something dark in your life."_ _

__Bae nodded, amazed at her perception. "My father is the Dark One."_ _

__The fairy gasped, clearly familiar with the name. She looked aghast and frowned sympathetically at Bae. "You poor thing."_ _

__"I want to save him. Can you help me?"_ _

__The fairy shook her head sadly, "Alas, I cannot make him as he was before. I can however, send him someplace where he will not be able to use his powers."_ _

__Bae shook his head frantically, "I don't want that! I want my family to stay together. He loves my Mama and I, I know it! The magic and power have blinded him to what's really important, that's all."_ _

__"The Dark One cannot love, child," The fairy said grimly, "He must be rid of his Curse in order to love."_ _

__"I can't believe that," Bae declared, but continued, "How do we get rid of the Curse? You said there was no way."_ _

__The fairy paused a moment, then floated closer to Bae. "What ails your father is specific to our realm. His powers do not belong here. You must go where you can escape this wretched curse."_ _

__"We would have to leave the village?"_ _

__"You would have to leave this realm. There are other worlds; ones without magic. If I give your family a way to go, will you take it? Will you leave this world behind?"_ _

__"Yes!" Bae cried instantly, "If it means my father will be as he was, then yes!"_ _

__Smiling with satisfaction, the fairy retrieved her wand, "Hold out your hand." Bae obeyed and with a small swish of her wand, a bean appeared in Bae's hand. He looked at it curiously, then up to the fairy, waiting for an explanation._ _

__"This is a magic bean," she said when she noticed his confusion. "The last of its kind. Use it wisely, and follow wherever it leads you. It will save your family."_ _

__Bae nodded firmly, "I will, I promise. Thank you!"_ _

__The fairy said nothing, instead offering a small curtsy. Afterward, she waved her wand once more and vanished in a flicker of bright blue light. Bae stared down at his hand, looking at the bean with increasing excitement. He found a way. He was going to have his father back. But it was with a great cost. He absently thought of Morainne and Anna, but he couldn't falter now. He needed his father. His Mama need him. The thought of leaving his dearest friends behind was a painful reality, he thought as he ran back toward his home, hand clutched tightly around the bean, but surely they would understand._ _

__He could hardly contain his excitement over his success; he'd hoped to find a way to keep his family together - without magic - but he'd been afraid that he would fail. Now he had the solution; a magic bean. Something so small and fragile, but it would save them. It would save his father. He knew it would be an adjustment. His father had gotten used to not needing the walking stick, and Bae felt a pang of guilt at knowing that the pain his father endured for so long would once again be back but he pushed that thought aside. It would be better for everyone if the Dark One no longer existed._ _

__He burst through the door of his home, calling for his father as he did so. Rumple appeared, concern written on his strange features, but the tension in his shoulders eased when he saw Baelfire in good spirits._ _

__"I found it, Papa!" He proclaimed proudly, thrusting out his hand to show his father the bean. Rumple stepped forward and stared, expression blank. Belle appeared a moment later, looking concerned. She held a book in her hands, and Bae noticed her knuckles were white from the tight grip she had on it._ _

__"You found what, Bae?" She asked curiously, moving to stand beside Rumple, who remained motionless. She glanced down, frowning as she saw the bean in her son's hand._ _

__"It's a bean," she said plainly._ _

__Baelfire nodded. "I summoned the Reul Ghorm," Baelfire explained excitedly. "If we use the bean we can go through a portal and we'll go to a land without magic! You won't be the Dark One anymore! There's no magic and things will be as they were before! We can start over, just like we agreed, Papa!"_ _

__Rumple said nothing. He could not speak for the fear that gripped him. He looked down at the bean in horror and disgust. Rumplestiltskin was no stranger to magic beans. He recalled his first encounter with one far too vividly, the pain and devastation it had wrought him still a fresh wound after all these years. It was not something he spoke of; not even Belle knew the story. It was a secret he kept guarded. It was a bitter childhood, days filled with loneliness and nights full of nightmares. There had been no comfort when he awoke. There hadn't been comfort until Belle. She accepted him, as had his son. But now the tides had turned and suddenly he was his father, staring down into his own pitiful and hopeful eyes, being begged by his son to leave his home and his magic behind._ _

__He'd only made the deal with his son because he believed it would be a fruitless endeavor. But now there was a way. Of course his son had found it, and now he was expected to follow through. But he couldn't. If it had been any other way, he would have done it without a second thought, he knew. If it meant that much to his son, he would have done it. But seeing his son holding a magic bean with the expectancy that things would be better on the other side was too painful and horrific. He couldn't lose his family to another portal. His son would just have to find another way. There had to be something else they could do._ _

__He glanced up to see his son staring at him with expectant eyes, the boy's smile spreading as he thought of a life with his father as a normal man. Sighing, Rumple reached out and he could see the hope grow in Bae's eyes. He wrapped his hand around his son's and gently closed their fingers around the bean. "Bae," he whispered, his eyes brimming with tears. Baelfire recoiled._ _

__"You're not going to do it."_ _

__He wasn't asking, Rumple knew, but he answered anyway, "I-I can't."_ _

__"You promised, Papa!" Bae shouted and Belle moved quickly between them._ _

__"Rumple," Belle, whispered, glancing at her husband with concern. She hadn't seen him so pained in so long. She reached out and touched his arm._ _

__"You can't ask this of me," he said as his fear turned him into a sniveling mess, "Please, anything but this."_ _

__Bae looked on without sympathy. "You were never going to go through with it," he said, his voice low and angry. "You were never going to honor this deal because you thought I'd never find a way. Well you're wrong. I did! I can't believe you would do this. You're a liar and a coward, Papa."_ _

__With that he turned and ran out of the house. Rumple moved to follow him but Belle reached out and grabbed him, "Rumple," she begged. He jerked his arm away and ran out, calling Baelfire's name. Belle immediately followed, a nagging feeling pushing her faster._ _

__-000-_ _

__Baelfire came to the clearing in the woods and stopped. He burned with anger, wiped at the tears on his face roughly. Sighing he looked at the bean in his hands, berating himself for believing his father would give up magic. It was too valuable to him. Bae wondered idly if his father loved him or magic more. It had to be magic. He'd chosen as much a moment ago. But, that wasn't entirely true, he thought bitterly. His father did love him. He'd proven that when he ran from the Ogres War, hadn't he? He'd proven in it when he took on the Dark One's curse to save the children._ _

__Bae sighed. Despite the killing, despite the magic, Rumplestiltskin was still his father. But he'd broken their deal and Bae couldn't help but feel betrayed by that knowledge. Not knowing what to do, Bae looked at the bean once more and sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true," he whispered as he threw the bean onto the ground._ _

__Turning, he decided to go find Morainne. She was smart, like his mother, and maybe she could shed some light onto what to do. If she knew about the Reul Ghorm, maybe she knew another way to get rid of his father's magic. Surely if stories such as the Reul Ghorm were told, there had to be others. Maybe a witch, or a sorceress, he thought. He took a step, stopping when he felt the ground beneath him begin to shake. He looked down, eyes widening as he saw a strange green light emerging from the ground, and when the ground shook again, he lost his balance and fell._ _

__The ground began to crack, and Bae, confused from the fall, struggled to scramble away from the opening that was forming at his feet. The magic was faster though, and the portal quickly opened beneath him. Bae cried out in fear as he shut his eyes and waited for the worst. He felt himself start to fall, but then a sharp pain struck his wrist and he looked up to see his father, leaning over the portal, looking on in absolute terror. In all his years, despite all the tales, Baelfire had never seen such genuine terror in his father's eyes. This wasn't about magic, he thought absently, as he felt himself being pulled down._ _

__Crying out again, Bae said, "Papa, please!" But Rumple seemed frozen. Bae could feel his hand, sweaty and slippery, sliding between his father's fingers. "Don't let go, Papa!" He cried, but his words seemed to fall on deaf hears. He heard his father whisper something, though he couldn't tell what. He tried to pull himself up, but the vortex below him was too strong. He looked up at his father again, their eyes locking for a long moment, then Bae felt his hand slip, and with one last desperate cry, he vanished._ _

__The portal closed up under Rumplestiltskin's feet, even as he moved frantically, digging through the dirt, calling out Baelfire's name in frantic, shrill cries. The more he dug, the more it became clear that the portal was sealed and that any second chance he had was gone. He pounded his fists into the earth, crying and screaming his son's name in between desperate proclamations of regret and sorrow. Finally he turned, his heart wrenching as he saw Belle on her knees, staring blankly at the spot where their son had been only moments before. She looked like a statue, her despair etched deep within her features as if they'd been slowly and carefully carved there over a long length of time. She did not move, did not speak, the only proof that she had not in fact turned to stone were the tears that slid down her cheeks, falling unnoticed onto the ground._ _

__Rumplestiltskin moved then, his wife's despair pulling him out of his own shock and he crawled over to where she knelt and laid a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She did not register him for several long moments. He waited, whispering her name once, hoping to bring her comfort and seek it as well. She blinked and the stone coldness of her eyes lit aflame and turned their burning heat to him. She wrenched away, standing to her feet to tower above him as he knelt before her like a sinner seeking redemption._ _

__"You," she said, her voice lacking the passion and fire in her eyes. "You did this," she said, her voice low and sharp. He could not deny her words and he remained silent. "You," she said again, raising her slim finger to point at him as if she were wielding a dagger. She wielded much worse, and he waited for her to throw her words at him, sharp, painful, and deadly._ _

__"You let him go."_ _

__He blinked, his many emotions preventing him from reacting accordingly. He could not deny her accusation; he wanted to desperately but the words would not form._ _

__"You let _our son_ go."_ _

__Tears trickled down his face and the fear that he'd lost his wife as well gripped him. He nodded, though his mind reeled in protest. He hadn't let him go. Not on purpose. Never on purpose. He couldn't speak, except to plead forgiveness, "I'm so sorry-"_ _

__" _Sorry_ isn't going to bring him back, Rumple," she cried, her voice loud and hysterical. "You could have just agreed! We could have left!" She wiped furiously at her eyes and hiccuped. "When did magic become more important to you than your _family?_ "_ _

__He was in front of her instantly, grasping her face in his hands. He could feel her try to pull away but he did not loosen his grip, afraid that if he let go she would disappear leaving him truly be alone. "I didn't," he cried, "But I'll find him," he declared suddenly. "I will not stop searching until I find him. We'll go to him or bring him to us. I don't care. I don't care what it takes; I will bring him back, Belle, I promise."_ _

__She managed to rip herself away from him then. "As far as I'm concerned, your promises mean nothing," she spat, "You made a promise to Bae and now he's _gone_." She took a moment to let her sobs take her. She calmed herself after a moment and glanced at him. "Get him back. _You_ let him go. You will bring my son back." She turned and walked away then, her arms wrapped around herself as she left her husband standing alone._ _

__~000~_ _

__My son. Not _our_ son. She no longer considered their child as his. And why should she? He hadn't been able to save him. Rumple sat on a log near the place where the portal had been, staring helplessly at it, willing it to open up. He didn't know what to do and his mind was racing through a century of thoughts, looking for a possible way to reach this other world. He didn't even know what world it was. He dropped his head to his knees and cried, cursing himself and the magic he'd used to destroy his family._ _

__After he exhausted himself, he stood and glanced up at the sky, wondering where his son was. He felt hollow; the thing he'd once given up everything for was now gone. He could not shake himself of the cruel irony and he crossed his arms, digging his long nails into the skin, pressing until he felt the warm, wet droplets of blood trickle down. He mindlessly healed it with a thought, not even looking at the marks. He dug into his skin again, the pain a small comfort compared to the emptiness he felt everywhere else, and when he felt the blood again, he did not bother to heal himself._ _

__He remembered, vaguely, Bae had said it had been the Reul Ghorm who gave him the bean. He knew, from thoughts of lives past, that the fairies were benevolent creatures, but the dark magic within him cringed and writhed at the thought of asking a fairy for help. He ignored the tingling throughout him that came with the apparently unpleasant thought of working with a fairy and spoke her name aloud, then again and again, each time more frantic than the last. Where was she? Weren't fairies to come when summoned? Where was this Reul Ghorm when she was most direly and urgently needed!_ _

__He turned and jumped, surprised at the tiny flicker of light floating before him. It shimmered, then swirled, and a lovely woman dressed in blue floated before him. He could sense the magic on her and said, "How do I follow him?"_ _

__She frowned. "You had the way," she said, knowing exactly of whom he spoke, "But you didn't take it. And there are no more magic beans."_ _

__Rumplestiltskin scowled at her. "That's a lie," he hissed._ _

__Her frown deepened and her dislike of him was clear. "We don't do that."_ _

__"You're lying," he said again, his desperation a frantic one. Every second that passed was a second he was away from his son. He didn't have time for games._ _

__"You will never make it to that world," she said, her voice tight and matter-of-fact. She spoke as if she _knew_ , but fairies weren't the only magical creatures. Rumplestiltskin understood magic too. And magic could do almost _anything_ ; and if it could do that, it would take him to his son._ _

__"Oh, I'll find a way," he declared. "There must be other paths. Perhaps...a realm jumper?"_ _

__"No."_ _

__He thought for a moment. "A time turner? A mage?"_ _

__She shook her head, "There is no-"_ _

__He looked up, an idea forming in his ever-calculating mind. "A curse?"_ _

__She blinked and when she did not immediately deny it, Rumplestiltskin smirked. "So it's a curse, then." It wasn't a question._ _

__The Blue Fairy stammered, "Of course you would think of a curse instead of a blessing. Your magic is limited by its own rotten core, Rumpelstiltskin. Anyway, it can't be done. Not without a great price."_ _

__The laugh that erupted from Rumplestiltskin was harsh and terrifying. "Oh, I've already paid a great price."_ _

__"You can't afford this one," she declared. "It's too far beyond your abilities. And I'll take comfort in that."_ _

__Rumplestiltskin stepped closer to the fairy, "Then comfort yourself all you want, fairy," he hissed, "I'll do whatever it takes to get him back. I will destroy this world if I have to! I will get my son back; it's only a matter of time! You cost me my son but I will find him!"_ _

__The Blue Fairy sniffed in indignation. "I didn't cost you your son," she stated calmly. "You did that all on your own."_ _

__"It was your fault!" He shouted. "But I'll find him. I'll restore what's been stolen from me; with no thanks to you!" He unsheathed his dagger and swung at her in a violent fit, but the fairy floated out of his reach and with one final disapproving glare, she vanished, leaving Rumplestiltskin in the darkness._ _

__"I WILL FIND HIM!" He cried, half mad with purpose and despair. "I will never stop until I find him!"_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is.
> 
> It's somewhat fitting that this happened on Friday the 13th. I'm quite pleased that it worked out this way. It certainly wasn't planned!
> 
> Only one beta had a chance to look this over, so apologies if there are any mistakes.
> 
> Chapter 30 will be up Friday, June 20.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. The scenes and dialogue in this chapter you recognize were taken from the episode "The Return".


	30. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you know what he really needed protection from?"
> 
> He glanced back to acknowledge her, and she sighed, "You."

Chapter 30: Adjustments

Rumplestiltskin slipped into the house quietly. No candles were lit, leaving the whole place bereft of any light. A fitting thing, Rumplestiltskin thought wearily. All light had been removed from his life, losing his son, and most likely his wife, within hours of each other. Rumple blinked heavily, and through the unshed tears he looked past the darkness. He glanced over to the bed, but he found it empty. Panic surged as he thought perhaps Belle had left. Where she would go he had no idea, but he certainly would not blame her for leaving.

It was all he deserved.

He heard a small sniffle, and his attention drifted over to his son's bed. There in the darkness, curled up in a small ball and gripping a blanket that had belonged to their boy, was Belle. She was motionless, but he could see tears slide down her cheek. He walked carefully, slowly, to his wife, and knelt down at her side. She stared blankly ahead of her, refusing to acknowledge him at all. He wondered idly if she even knew he was there.

Reaching out tentatively, he touched her cheek with his finger, trying to wipe away some of the tears. The moment his skin met hers Belle gasped and wrenched away from him, moving from the bed toward the empty hearth. He watched as she stumbled her way from him, and with a weary wave of his hand, he lit a few of the candles scattered around the hut. Belle said nothing, instead collapsing in a heap by the hearth.

Standing, Rumple followed. He came to sit next to her by the hearth and reached out to touch the blanket. Belle scowled but said nothing, instead opting to pull her knees to her chest and rest her head atop them. She was looking away from him. She wanted nothing to do with him. And Rumple didn't blame her. He hated himself, but he needed her to understand, so he spoke softly, hoping his encounter with the wretched fairy might bring a small flicker of hope.

"I can get him back," he whispered. Belle tensed, then slowly lifted her head, looking at him for the first time. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her face was red from crying. Lines of tears stained her face, and Rumple felt another wave of hatred as he thought of how he'd been the one to make he look this way.

"You can?" She said skeptically, "Really?"

He nodded. "It won't be easy," he sighed, "I will have to study. Learn. But there's a curse-"

Belle leapt up, which caused Rumple to topple over as she ripped the corner of blanket from his grip. He pulled himself up to lean on his elbows as Belle stared down at him angrily.

" _Of course_ it's a curse," she spat, "Of course. It's always magic and curses with you."

"I know of no other way!" Rumplestiltskin cried, as he moved to stand as well, "Do not make the mistake of thinking you're the only one who lost their child tonight!"

Belle whirled around on him, and the anger in her eyes was unlike anything he'd ever seen. "Don't you dare speak to me of losing a child," she cried, "You had him! He was in your hand, and you let him go!"

Rumple opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but Belle held up a hand to stop him. "Spare me your excuses," she said bitterly, "I don't want to hear them." She turned and moved back to Bae's bed, sinking onto the pallet wearily. "First my father, now my son," she sighed, "How many people must I lose to your magic before you realize it's too dangerous to keep?"

"I can get him back," Rumplestiltskin repeated, the phrase quickly becoming his mantra, "I can, Belle. You'll see. I'll find him. I'll get him back."

She looked up at him, sizing him up momentarily before she spoke, "Yes, you will."

Desperation and anger filled Rumple. He hadn't meant for this to happen, but now here they were at odds. Once again he was a coward who had tried to do something good, but had utterly failed. He had ruined everything. This time, it seemed, for good.

"I won't stop until I find him," Rumple swore, "I'll search until the end of time. I won't stop looking until I bring him home. Whatever has to be done, I will do it."

He turned, deciding to go to the small cabin that housed all his magical items. Surely one of the books had a curse that could undo what had been done. There had to be other ways to a land without magic. He knew the curse was terrible, that fairy had indicated as much, but he didn't care. He would find it and he would bring his son home. He reached the door, pausing only when he heard Belle speak again.

"Do you know what he really needed protection from?"

He glanced back to acknowledge her, and she sighed, "You."

A wave of sickness washed over him. He shoved the door open and walked out, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing how hurtful her words were. He _didn't_ need protection from his father. He loved his son, and though he knew he made mistakes, Rumple also knew what it meant to need protection from one's father. He knew what it was to be abandoned. And Rumple had not abandoned his son willingly. Unlike his own, uncaring father, Rumplestiltskin would not stop until his son was once again by his side.

He'd tear the world apart to find his boy, if that was what it took.

With that vow settled into his heart, Rumple disappeared to begin searching for a way to a land without magic.

~000~

Belle awoke to the disturbing sound of silence. The pain and horror of the night before hadn't left her alone, even to allow her a few hours' sleep, so it was with acute awareness that she opened her eyes to see an empty house. She sat up, Bae's bed not quite as comfortable as her own, and stretched her back as she took a moment to review all that happened.

Her son was gone.

And from the looks of things, so was her husband. It was with great regret that she realized she was glad the latter wasn't present, and she felt the tears sting fresh on her face. Oh, how she wanted to hate him! A small part of her did, she thought, then reconsidered. No, it wasn't quite hate. It was more resentment, she realized. She resented him, greatly. But she did not hate him. Not quite.

She sighed and stood, then instantly sat back down again. She felt drained and weak. There were chores to be done, she thought idly, but it hardly mattered when her husband and son were missing. She tried to push all thoughts of Bae aside. It was too much, and she couldn't bear to think of how she'd lost her child. The lively boy with unruly hair who laughed and read and got into more mischief than a child had a right to. He was an affectionate boy, always well behaved when he wanted to be, and he had a brilliant mind. Belle sighed. Such a wonderful young man, only to have all his chances stripped away. It was enough to make her heart ache, and she curled up on her son's bed once more, too weak to have a proper cry, but unable to stop the body wracking sobs that flowed forth.

Belle awoke to knocking on the door. She stood, stumbling in her weariness, and wiped at her face as she made her way to the door. Perhaps someone had found Baelfire? Could it be possible? She wrenched the door open, causing the two girls on the other side to jump. The glanced up at Belle, eyes widening in concern as they took in her current state.

"Miss Belle, what happened?" Morainne cried, stepping forward quickly. Anna followed, glancing around the cabin in concern.

"Is something wrong?" Anna asked, noticing instantly that Baelfire was nowhere to be seen. The girls shared a look. From the way Baelfire spoke recently, the girls knew he would be reluctant to go anywhere with his father willingly, unless of course he'd found a way.

"Did he do it?" Anna asked quickly, "Did he find a way?"

Belle regarded the girls for a long moment, then shook her head despairingly, "Oh, girls," she whispered, "He's gone."

Morainne's face drained and Anna reached out to wrap an arm around the brunette. Morainne looked at Belle, their eyes shimmering with tears. Belle stepped forward and pulled both girls into a tight hug. They wrapped their arms around her as well, and it was a touch Belle desperately needed. She needed someone to hold, someone to hold her. And neither of those would be Rumplestiltskin. She didn't even want to think of him at the moment.

Belle ushered the two inside and set about making tea. They were all silent, save for the occasional sniffle, and when Belle finished the mindless task, she sat down and explained what occurred. As she spoke, she noticed the girls giving each other guilty looks and when she finished, her voice strained as she spoke through tears, Morainne lowered her head to the table and cried more.

"This is my fault," she sobbed, "I should never have told him that story!"

"We're so sorry," Anna cried, reaching over again to comfort Morainne, "We had no idea-"

Belle held up her hand to silence them. "This was not your fault," she said softly, "There are others at fault here, but it's not you." She smiled, a small, feeble thing, and reached out to pat their hands. "Bae loved you both very much," she told them. "You were his dearest friends."

The girls seemed slightly appeased by that notion, and Belle spoke with them a while longer. She warned them against telling others, though it was expected that the boy's disappearance could not be hidden for long. "It will save us some grief," Belle explained, "Rumplestiltskin is looking for a way to find him. I fear he may do something horrible if someone were to approach him and make accusations."

"Should you be here, then?" Anna asked gently, "Bae always spoke of his father with love, but he made it no secret to us that he was afraid."

Belle shook her head, "You're both sweet," she said, "Thank you for your concern, but no. I'll be fine here. If I can do anything," she sighed, "It's handle a foolish sorcerer."

Anna and Morainne nodded, then stood to leave. They each hugged Belle, the embrace lasting a long moment. Anna stepped out of the house, but Morainne lingered a moment, looking down at her dirty shoes shyly.

Belle looked at her knowingly. "Yes?"

"I-" Morainne sniffed, and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment, "I just wanted you to know that I loved Bae."

Belle smiled softly and rested her hands on Morainne's shoulders, "I know, dear."

Morainne shook her head, "No you don't understand," she cried, "I… _loved_ him."

Belle knelt down before the girl and brushed her hair out of her eyes and wiped at her tears, "I know," she said again, her own tears returning. Perhaps she had yet to stop crying. "Bae loved you too."

Morainne let out a sharp breath, then began to weep, throwing her arms around Belle's neck. Belle held the girl close to her, gently rocking her back and forth, and taking comfort in the feeling of having a child in her arms again.

"I'll never get to tell him," she sobbed into Belle's shoulder, and her heart broke at the girl's pain. To be in love, but never know the joys of sharing that love, was the worst pain of all. Belle did not envy Morainne, though she wished with everything in her that she could take the pain upon herself. No one as precious and young as this girl deserved to be so hurt.

"Yes you will," Belle promised, though the words felt hollow, "You'll tell him one day."

It seemed enough to appease Morainne, and even if it was false hope, it was still hope, Belle decided. She didn't like the thought of lying, but it wasn't a lie if she herself was determined to believe it. She would see her son again. And if it was in her power, so would Morainne.

At length, Morainne sobered and with one last hug from Belle, made her way home. Belle returned to her empty hut, and as the silence once again settled around her, she let herself succumb to her despair.

~000~

The days that followed were filled with silence. Belle did not speak, and Rumple did not try to engage his wife. He only returned home for brief intervals, but left as quickly as he arrived. Belle barely even looked in his direction when he did appear, and Rumple felt it best to not speak unless he had something truly worthwhile to say.

And currently, nothing he could say would interest Belle.

Though he did not stay long at home, he watched her carefully when he was there. She looked so lost, so broken, and it made Rumple feel like a true failure. A small part of him longed for nothing more than to comfort his wife, but he kept his distance like the coward that he was. He was full of self-loathing, something he hadn't felt this strong since he'd returned from war a crippled deserter. And at any rate, he had no idea _how_ to comfort her. How did one comfort another when they could find no solace them self? The grief between them was almost tangible, thick and heady and suffocating.

He no longer slept at home. He doubted he would be welcome anyway. Belle wanted nothing to do with him that much was clear by her silence, so he decided that it would be best to leave her be. He began to travel, though not too far at first, looking for anything that might lead him to his son. He traded information for valuables; he offered potions for names. He spun and gave gold to poor farmers in exchange for an item in their home that reeked of magic. Anything he could get that held magic had a potential use in finding his son. Soon the small cabin he used to store magic books was stuffed to the brim and he had nowhere else to keep his things. Belle forbade magic in the house, though she'd never outright said as much. Rumple dare not perform magic in front of her, not even for the most basic of comforts. Not now.

They said nothing, but word quickly spread that something had happened within the Dark household. Baelfire had not been seen for over two weeks, and the children that still dared play with him began to fret and wonder amongst themselves if their friend had fallen prey to his own father's sorcery. Anna and Morainne came by again to solemnly celebrate Baelfire's birthday, and Agda joined them at Belle's request. Belle managed to make the sweet cakes he liked so well, and while they tried to remain cheerful and speak only of their fondest memories of the boy, soon they all crumbled into tears, leaving the day spoiled of any attempt at joy.

Rumplestiltskin watched from the distance, having not been invited to the small, somber gathering. He seethed, watching as Belle took comfort in seemingly anyone but him. Where was his comfort, he thought bitterly. Who would hold him as his body wracked with sobs? Who told him it was going to be all right? He scowled and disappeared back to the cabin. He had no use for such things. If that was how Belle wanted to spend her days, he'd leave her to it. He had a curse to find.

~000~

Belle sat at Agda's home, sipping quietly on some tea laced with something strong that Agda insisted she try. It tasted strange, but Belle said nothing, choosing to trust the woman who had been her friend for fifteen years.

Belle had been visiting more and more to escape the solitude of her house. With Bae gone and her relationship with Rumple seemingly nonexistent, she needed companionship. And other than her father, Agda had always been someone whom she could trust.

"I don't know what to do," Belle whispered as she sipped on her tea, "Everywhere I look, I see a reminder of Bae, and though I can't bring myself to change anything, there's just so much pain."

"The greatest pain a mother can bear is the loss of a child," Agda agreed, "And what's worse, you don't seem to know whether to grieve or hope."

Belle looked up, "What do you mean?"

Agda smiled knowingly, "He vanished. He might be alive; he might not. You can't mourn because that's giving up hope, but you can't quite hope because what if he _is_ dead?"

Belle opened her mouth to protest, but Agda silenced her. "Do you want my advice, love?"

Belle nodded. She needed _something_. "Leave."

Belle choked on her drink, "Leave?"

Agda nodded, "Until the boy can be found, you should get away from here. There is nothing left for you here." She offered Belle a sympathetic look, "People are talking. You're constantly reminded of your boy, and that idiot husband of yours is locked away doing gods knows what."

"I can't leave," Belle argued, "What about Morainne and Anna? What about you?"

"You can visit, if you wish," Agda chided. "And those girls are strong. They'll understand. They still have friends, family. You can go where no one knows. You can start over." She gave Belle a knowing look. "With or without your husband, I think it would be best if you got away. It might do you more good than you know."

Belle stood, unsure. "I'll think on it," she said as she prepared to go. Agda nodded simply and watched as Belle moved about sluggishly. Frowning, Agda stood and approached Belle.

"You can handle a good deal, my dear, but you cannot do it all alone."

"Then why should I leave?"

"Because if you don't, you'll certainly wither away," Agda stated plainly, "And I'd rather send you off than watch you lose yourself to your sorrow. There's too many memories here. You'll never recover if you stay."

"Perhaps you're right," Belle sighed at length, pulling on her cloak as she moved toward the door, "Perhaps I should go."

~000~

Belle sat for several hours, mulling over what Agda said. Deep down she knew the woman was right. She needed to leave. She could pack up their things and go. It would be so simple. She didn't have much. But she frowned at the thought. Leaving Rumplestiltskin was out of the question. She was angry, furious, but she'd made a vow, and she was not going to break it. If he didn't agree to go with her, she would not leave.

It was an easy decision to make, in the end. They would leave. She didn't know where they would go but it hardly mattered when there was a basket full of gold not two feet away from her. They could go anywhere or do anything, if they wanted. It sounded like an adventure, one she would love to share with Bae. Sighing, Belle reached out and toyed with the gold rope coiled in the basket. _All that power_ , she thought, _surely there must be a way to find our son_.

The door opened, startling Belle out of her thoughts. Rumple stood before her, looking nervous and shy. He stepped forward to where she sat and held out his hand to her.

"Belle," he whispered at the same time she rose and said his name. They each blinked, but after a moment, Belle relented.

"Yes?"

"I need you to come with me," he said urgently, "Please."

Belle hesitated, then nodded. Whatever he had to show her seemed urgent, and if it had to do with Bae, then her thoughts of leaving could wait. They wouldn't be necessary, really. Rumple held out his hand, and Belle stared at it curiously. He shook it, insisting that she take it and slowly she lifted her own hand to touch his. They both breathed in sharply at the touch, something once so familiar and desired now a distant memory. They had not touched since Belle had shoved him away nearly two weeks ago. Rumple swallowed thickly, then closed his hand around hers, and they disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

When they reappeared, Belle gasped at the sight before her. They were in the middle of the woods, far away from the village, and before her stood a large, imposing castle. Without a word, Rumplestiltskin led her inside. She looked around the entrance way, eyes wide at the large, vaulted ceilings, elaborate rug, and grand staircase the led spiraled up to another floor. To her right was a large ornate door, and Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and the doors opened. They walked inside, and Belle was taken aback by how large the room was. The entrance way had been as large as their home. This room seemed to extend forever, and the décor expensive looking and elegant. Belle suddenly felt very out of place in her simple blue dress, a likeness of the one that had been her engagement present fifteen years ago.

"Why are we here?" Belle asked softly, looking around her at the columns that lined the large, covered windows. Each column held a strange item, and Belle's fingers itched to touch them.

"It's ours," Rumplestiltskin said softly. Belle whirled around and stared at him in astonishment.

"What do you mean, ours?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "It's ours, if you'll have it."

"What did you do?"

"My cabin no longer holds all I need to find…our son," Rumple said, unable to say his boy's name, "I needed a larger space to work, and I thought you might like it. You can live in comfort while I do my work. It's the least I can do after," his voice broke, "Everything."

Belle's lip trembled, but she held herself resolute. She would not break down; not again. Not now. "That doesn't answer my question."

He sighed, annoyed. "I acquired it in a deal."

Belle blinked. "A deal?"

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin nodded. "I've learned, rather quickly in fact, that when two people have something the other wants, a deal can always be made. I cannot function in the cabin anymore, and I cannot bear to see you sitting in that shack alone. I want you to live here with me while I research. You will never want for anything. Please," he said, looking so desperate, "Please accept it."

Belle hummed as she glanced around, too weary to feel impressed. "And if I don't want it?"

Wincing, Rumplestiltskin answered, "Then you may do as you wish. I'll take you back to the hut, or wherever you want to go. Even to the council, if such a thing now seems more desirable to you."

Belle looked away, distressed, "What did I tell you about bringing that up again?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Things change."

"Not everything."

They went silent, Rumple rocking on his heels in nervous anticipation as Belle considered her options. She glanced around the room, admiring the beauty of the place. It would bring no comfort to her heart, but she would be away from the village; she would have peace. Perhaps she could have a garden and tend to it, dedicating her time to plucking weeds out of the ground instead of tending to her heart.

"What of the sheep? My books? B-his…things…"

"All here, the moment you agree. Anything you want will be yours."

"I want my son."

"I know."

He waited a beat, stepped closer to her and asked, "What will you do?"

"Answer something first."

"Anything."

"Were you eavesdropping on Agda and I today?"

Rumple blinked, confused. "No," he said, "Why? What does Agda have to do with this?"

He did this on his own. Apparently the thought of leaving the village hadn't only crossed her mind. It was a sudden thing, to be swept away without saying goodbye, but it was a lack of closure Belle with which Belle felt familiar. It helped, to know he'd been thinking of her, even if her thoughts had only been on herself and her son. It was a kindness, she thought, and she felt some of the hardness she felt toward her husband soften ever so slightly.

"I'll stay," she said at length, "With you."

Rumplestiltskin's relief was palpable. He offered to show her around the castle, but she shook her head. "I want to sleep," she said softly, "Just tell me where my room is and I'll be on my way."

He told her and she slipped past, needing to be alone to process all that had occurred. When she reached the door, Rumplestiltskin called out, "Good night."

Belle didn't answer. Nothing was good. Not right now.

 

_End Part Two_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to thank everyone for being so understanding about not posting Friday. It was a very sudden thing, but I'm happy to say that my grandfather is stable, at least for the moment. It doesn't really look good, but it doesn't exactly look bad, either. We're sort of in limbo at this point, waiting to see whether he will improve or decline. He was conscious long enough to manage saying "hi" to me, and that was such a huge blessing for me.
> 
> Unless things change drastically next week, I should be able to post Chapter 31 this Friday, June 27.
> 
> Thank you to my betas, Sirensong25 and my husband. You guys are great.
> 
> And thank all of you again. I really do appreciate it.
> 
> Next chapter will start Part Three. Don't expect them to kiss and make up instantly, but don't worry. They won't be estranged for too long.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. I do own Anna.


	31. Desperate and Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's become of us?" She asked brokenly, "What are we going to do?"

Part Three

Chapter 31. Broken

Belle entered the bedroom wearily, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto the bed and sleep. All exhaustion seemed to leave her though, when she laid eyes on the expansive room before her. Never had she seen such a grand place, and it took her a moment to grasp the fact that it was hers. Slowly she entered the room, trying to take in everything at once, but finding it difficult. Not only was she overwhelmed, but it was dark, save for the fire that was already warming the room from its hearth.

Did Rumplestiltskin think this helped matters? She agreed to stay with him, but did he honestly think locking them away would solve their problems when they hardly stepped near each other in their tiny, one room shack? It was too much, Belle thought as she moved to sit on the bed, taking a moment to bounce appreciatively on the soft mattress. It was a finer bed than she'd ever seen. It was a room larger than their home. Belle made a face at that thought. Was she supposed to think of this place as her home? It wasn't, it couldn't be. Not without Baelfire there. Nothing was right without him.

Sighing, Belle stood and moved toward the hearth, needing to warm the chill that had settled over her. It was a cold place, she thought idly, this castle. She stayed close to the fire for some time, watching the flames sway and twist pleasantly in the hearth. When she began to grow too warm, she stood and idly ran her fingers over the vanity that rested close by. It was a small table, fitted with what looked like lotions, perfumes, and a lovely hairbrush. The mirror was quite large, and Belle took a moment to look at herself. Being poor, she'd never had the money to buy even a simple hand mirror. This was the first true look at herself, and her nose wrinkled at the sight. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes looked dark and bloodshot, no doubt from all the crying. She bared her teeth to the mirror, looking at herself as she turned her head and made faces until she grew tired of seeing her weary reflection.

She wandered to the other side of the room, past the large four poster bed that sat in the middle, toward a large wardrobe carved out of dark wood, with elaborate designed etched in. She ran a hand over the door in appreciation of the fine work, then pulled. Her eyes widened as she took in a multitude of dresses, in a variety of colors. She reached out, gently running her fingers over the fabric, jaw dropping as she recognized it as silk. She pushed the gowns aside, looking at all the different ones, feeling guilty as she admired each one. She couldn't wear these, not in good conscious. She kept looking, unable to resist the smile that touched her lips as she saw a dress identical to the one she was currently wearing. It was blue, apparently her husband's favorite color for her, and glaringly simple hanging next to a velvet ensemble of deep purple. She pulled the blue dress out, and held it up to her. It seemed a perfect fit, and she knew better than to be surprised. She placed the dress in the middle of the wardrobe, where she could easily spot it, its bright blue a sticking out compared to all the deep hued gowns that surrounded it.

Examining further, Belle found a dresser with nightgowns, undergarments, and stockings. There were shoes, too, all far too fancy for her liking. Eventually she came across a silver pair that seemed simple enough, and tried them on. Again, they fit, and she hoisted her feet up in the air, admiring the way the silver sparkled in the firelight. She pulled them off and put them back in their place, the same guilt as before washing over her. She didn't deserve this. She didn't want this.

Deciding she'd dwell on everything the next day, after she had a good night's rest, Belle pulled out one of the simple nightgowns and moved back to the vanity, where a bowl and basin sat waiting. She dipped her hand in the water, humming in delight as the warmth hit her fingers. She wouldn't have to warm the water, for which she was grateful, and so she quickly poured some water and stripped, laying her dress over the chair next to her. She grabbed the cloth and washed, instantly feeling better now that she was cleaner.

She dressed, feeling like a child playing dress-up in such a fine nightgown, then braided her hair. With a sigh, she crawled into the bed, noticing for the first time just how large it truly was. Before, when she slept on a palette she never noticed just how small and cozy it had been. As comfortable as this bed was, it was empty and cold. Belle shivered slightly, and pulled the covers to her chin. Part of her wanted to ask Rumplestiltskin to join her, if only to keep her warm, but she pushed that thought aside. She then thought of Bae, and wondered where he was sleeping. If he was sleeping. She felt the tears sting her eyes and sighed. What was Bae doing? Where was he? Was he all right? It grieved her that she did not know. The thought once again snuck in that he might very well be dead, and the tears poured out fast at the thought. She buried her face into the pillow, praying with all her might that her son was safe, wherever he was.

Only when her tears were spent did she roll back onto her side, staring at the dying flames in the hearth. She watched them for a long while, and only when the embers finally withered away into nothing did she fall asleep.

~000~

When Belle awoke the next morning, it was to the same emptiness that had accompanied her to sleep. She dreamt of Bae, both of him being lost to her forever and of him returning. She didn't know which dream disturbed her more, and she decided not to dwell on it. She lay in bed for a long while, knowing that for the first time in her life, she had no chores to attend to. It was strange, having no reason to get out of bed and a small part of her wanted to take advantage of that and simply lie there. The thought was tempting, but she pushed herself up and grabbed her old dress. She couldn't bring herself to indulge in anything, not when her grief was too strong.

She took her time dressing, however, and eventually wandered the path she'd taken the night before to the room she and Rumple had stood. It was a grand room, she thought as she entered. She wanted to inspect it as she had her own room, but Rumplestiltskin's presence at the head of the large dining table kept her rooted at the entryway.

Rumple stood when he noticed Belle, then frowned as he took in her appearance.

"Were none of the dresses to your liking?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his and he stepped back, nervous. They were still on edge with each other, and Belle could feel the anger fester within her as she looked at the man she blamed for losing her son. A small part of her wanted to go to him, beg him to comfort her but she remained where she was, instead choosing to study his own apparel. Up until the night before he only wore his peasants clothing, though magically altered to look like new. He favored a red velvet cloak as well. But now he looked like a spectacle in silk and leather. His pants were dark and form fitting and the shirt was clearly of the finest silk, flowing in dark red waves over him. He wore a vest as well, made of a dark leather similar to his pants. She glanced down, taking in the sight of his boots. They were tall, impractical looking things, with more laces than most of the gowns in her wardrobe possessed. No doubt it took magic to get in and out of the things.

He looked noble, Belle thought. Elegant yet menacing. He looked powerful. He looked like a Dark One should.

She allowed herself a moment to admire the man before her, but no more. There were more important things than what her husband chose to wear.

"They were lovely," she said at length, referring to the dresses, "But I don't feel right in wearing them."

He looked ready to argue, but instead nodded and dropped uneasily back into his seat. Belle approached and sat in the seat to his right, staring at her hands in her lap. A moment later Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and a tea set appeared. Belle blinked up at him and he shrugged, "I thought you might be thirsty."

She nodded wordlessly and prepared herself a cup, debating on adding extra sugar. There would certainly not be a lack of it, but she pushed the thought aside once more. Just because she suddenly had an abundance didn't give her the right to waste it. She imagined Bae leaping at the chance to add more sugar into his tea and the guilt and grief hit her anew. She scowled and pushed her teacup away in disgust. Rumple looked at her curiously, and Belle felt compelled to speak her mind.

"We can't do this."

"Do what?" Rumple asked hesitantly.

"This!" Belle said, gesturing around the room. "How can you bring me here and present me with gowns and the largest castle I've ever seen? How can you offer me tea and wear those ridiculous clothes when we've just lost our son? Don't you care-"

He was out of his seat and in her face within a moment. Her chin was gripped between his fingers, and she flinched as he snarled, " _Of course_ I care." She tried to turn her head away, but he kept his grip on, her fingers digging into her chin not painfully, but unpleasant enough to fuel her anger.

"Don't you dare accuse me of not caring," he hissed, then loosened his grip on her as if he only just realized what he'd done. He stumbled away from her, hands held out apologetically and Belle rubbed the spot with her own fingers. It didn't hurt; not physically. He seemed ashamed, and spoke again softly, like he was the shy spinner from before. "The curse will work," he said gently, "But I don't know how to do it. I have to study," he said, and his voice began to rise once more, the tone becoming higher and higher, until the glimpse of the man she once knew vanished under the madness of the magical being before her. "I have to think, research. Plan! There's so much to do. And I need space, and quiet. I need a place where you're safe and self-sufficient."

He gestured around him, "Anything you want, just ask and it's yours!" he declared, "This place can be as comfortable as you like, and all I ask in return is that you not question my motives at every damned turn!"

"What has happened to you," Belle asked as she stared hard at Rumplestiltskin, "Who are you?"

"The Dark One, dearie!" He said, gesturing to himself elaborately, "Surely you figured that out by now!"

"You're not the man I married," she said flatly, and if it was supposed to bring him back from the madness that seemed to consume it, it utterly failed. Instead he laughed, the sound harsh and menacing.

"Oh, that poor bastard is gone," he said shrilly, "Vanished through a portal with his son! Now all you have is _me_." He stepped closer to her and said, teeth bared, "I'm a monster, dearie, and you'd best get used to it."

She stared at him, hurt and confused. He laughed darkly and gestured at her with a hand. "See? You agree."

"I said nothing," Belle responded. Rumple shrugged.

"Your silence says it all. But it matters not. You've been against me from the beginning. You can't stand what I've become, Belle. I tried to do everything to protect you and our son, but instead, you accuse me of being the thing he needed protection from! You've never once been grateful for any of this, have you?"

Belle whimpered. Blinking, Rumple stepped back, and all the madness and rage that had built up around him seemed to extinguish like a candle being snuffed out. He calmed and stepped forward cautiously, "Oh, Belle, no. I'm sorry-"

She pushed his hands away, and looked at him tearfully. "If this is the man my husband has become, then you're right," she said, voice trembling as she spoke, "I am against you. I won't leave you, but I won't tolerate this kind of treatment. Unless you find a way – a _real_ way to get to my son, then I don't want to see or speak to you again. _Stay. Away. From. Me."_

She turned on her heel and ran out of the room. Rumple watched, wanting nothing more than to follow after her, but he held himself still. She wanted nothing to do with him. And who could blame her? He was a monster, after all, and deserved nothing more than what he'd received. Growling, he grabbed the tea cup she knocked over and threw it hard against the wall, the shattering crash doing little to satisfy the rage that was once again building up inside. His breathing grew heavy, as did his legs, and finally he could do nothing but sink to the ground, where he curled up and wept.

~000~

Belle slammed her bedroom door shut and threw herself onto her bed. The tears that had started downstairs now flowed anew and she let herself cry, mourning her son and her marriage. She didn't know the man that was downstairs. Her husband would never speak to her in such a manner, she thought, and she couldn't understand what had brought about such a sudden change. But then, she hadn't been particularly kind either. Ever since her father's death, things between them had started to fray and now it felt that everything they had worked for was undone. She sat up and wiped at her eyes. This wasn't them, she thought sadly. Her husband didn't scream at her and she didn't ignore him. Losing their son brought out the worst in them.

But this wasn't just about magic or their son. This was grief. Rumplestiltskin was grieving. It was clear he blamed himself, as she did. But she was grieving too, and she didn't know what to do. Before, whenever her sorrow had been too much to handle, she turned to her father. Or her husband, or Agda. Now she was separated from all of them, in one way or another. She was surrounded by loneliness and despair and there seemed to be no escape from it. The only thing she had now was this big, empty castle, and the only companion she had left was a man she had no desire to see at the moment. Sighing, she reasoned that perhaps her husband needed that explosion of emotion. It didn't excuse it, but perhaps it was necessary. All they had now was each other, and Belle could laugh at how pitiful they'd been at comforting one another.

She wondered if he would forgive her for her words, then paused. Was she ready to forgive him? A small part of her, the part that loved him unconditionally, wanted to say she could. But the rest of her disagreed. She didn't want to forgive him. She wanted to stew in the anger and sorrow, because at least then she could be comfortable and alone. It was too much effort to try to work things out right now, and Belle was tired. She felt empty, and if she tried to give anything, she feared she may break. It was no excuse, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not yet. She would grieve, and give both herself and Rumplestiltskin time to calm down before she even thought of attempted a similar conversation.

Perhaps next time they would both be better at communicating.

She ended up falling asleep, waking up as the sun was setting. She stood and wandered over to the large wardrobe, but frowned when she couldn't see. The night before there a bright fire. Now it was dark and cold. She briefly played with the idea of going to Rumplestiltskin, but thought better of it.

"I wonder what I need to do to get a fire going," she murmured to herself, thinking of the trial of finding wood, flint, and a poker needed to care for the fire. She jumped when a fire sprang to life, crackling pleasantly as it filled the room with light and warmth. She stared, glancing around suspiciously before saying experimentally, "I'd like some tea…"

A tray with tea appeared on the vanity, and she looked on in awe. Had she done that? Or was it Rumple, able to hear her wishes? Or perhaps it was the castle itself, she thought idly. Rumple mentioned wanting her to be self-sufficient, and that he would be busy, so perhaps the castle was fixed to do as she wished. No matter how it worked, it was a strange feeling to know she could make things simply appear, and told herself to ask Rumple how it all worked when she was on speaking terms with him again.

Which could very well be a long time, she reminded herself, if his anger was anything to judge by.

She asked for a plate of bread and cheese, swallowing down the guilt she felt for using magic after she chastised Rumple for it only a few hours prior. She pushed that thought aside until she ate, needing something on her stomach to help her focus. She vowed to take the dishes to the kitchen when she finished and wash them herself. She wasn't going to become dependent on magic, she vowed. Not when she knew what happened to those who did.

She finished, then picked up the tray and left her room, determined to find the kitchen. She wandered down the hallway, jumping in surprise when the torches that lined the halls flickered to life as she passed. She gave a small nod of thanks, then realized how silly she was for such a thing, and carried on. After traveling through several rooms and up and down numerous flights of stairs, Belle huffed and sat down, balancing the tray on her knees. "I should have taken him up on an offer of a tour," she mused aloud, cursing her foolishness. "Oh well. I'll find it at some point."

She continued on, determined that if she didn't find it in what felt like fifteen minutes, she'd screw her pride and just call out for Rumplestiltskin. It ended up not being necessary, as she stumbled into the kitchen a few moments later. She sighed in relief, then took in the sight before her, and though she should not have been surprised, she was.

The kitchen was large; larger than a kitchen had a right to be, and she glanced around at all the shelves and cabinets, no doubt stocked full of food. She deposited the tray on the counter near the tub for washing and began to explore. There were candles lit everywhere and it was bright enough for her to see with ease. She opened doors, eyes widening as she saw the vast amounts of food. There was sugar and wheat, rice and cheese. There was a vast amount of wine, and even a shelf dedicated to sweet cakes that looked suspiciously like the ones Belle used to make.

She wandered further and found a door toward the back that led to a freezing cold room. It was by far the smallest room in the castle but it was crowded with hides of meat hanging on hooks. Belle blanched at how much there was; it was enough to feed them for at least a year! Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of what her reality appeared to be now, she shut the door and set about washing the few dishes she'd used.

The water in the tub was hot, and as she washed the dishes, she marveled at how quickly the chore was done when she didn't have to heat the water first. As guilty as it made her feel, she felt a particular joy at the thought of not having to heat water for every task anymore. It would be the one bit of magic she allowed herself to enjoy. That and the fire in her room, she decided with a firm nod. She would partake in no other magic from her husband, and she vowed to be firm on that regard. She would not use magic for anything else. Not when the cost had been her son.

Finished with her task, Belle returned upstairs. She managed to find her room with only a little trouble, and decided firmly that she would have to get – or make – a map to guide her around. She entered, grateful for the sanctuary that was her bedchamber, and took solace in the warm, bright fire that greeted her. She curled up in front of it for a while, allowing herself to become lost in her thoughts. Somewhere, a clock chimed to twelve and Belle gaped as she realized she'd spent an entire day in her room doing nothing but mope.

She bathed and dressed for bed, despite not feeling tired, and crawled into the vast emptiness between her sheets. Sighing, she studied the ceiling for some time and wondered what Rumplestiltskin was doing. Most likely looking for a way to find their son. She paused at that, and her stomach turned. She couldn't do anything, she realized with a sob. Even if she _wanted_ to help Rumple with his quest to find this curse, there was nothing she could truly do. It all rested on Rumplestiltskin, and Belle wasn't certain if she trusted him not to fail.

"What's become of us?" She asked brokenly, "What are we going to do?"

~000~

Rumplestiltskin paced in his work room, still seething with anger. He'd locked himself in here after his fight with Belle that morning but even now, several hours later the pain was still fresh. She didn't want to have anything to do with him. She probably hated him, though she'd never come out and say such a thing. She was too kind for that, he thought bitterly. She would make him suffer in a multitude of ways, but she would never give him the satisfaction of telling him how she felt. She had made her feelings clear in other ways though, and he cursed himself for making it so she could be self-sufficient. She had no need of him now, and could find a way to spend the rest of her days mere rooms from him, but never once see or speak. It wasn't fair, he thought bitterly, but then when had life ever been kind to him?

Rumple tried to forget about the entire ordeal by immersing himself in his work, but every so often he found his thoughts drifting back to that morning, and the look of disgust in his wife's eyes. With a sigh, he plopped down onto a work bench and bent forward, resting his head in his hands and cursed. This wasn't what he wanted for them. He acquired this castle in a rather hefty deal, intending to bring Belle here so that she could grieve in comfort, and so he could work. But now they were here and he'd never felt so distant from her. Even when they'd barely known each other, there had been sweetness in her eyes, always directed at him, and he recalled bitterly when she'd told him she didn't care what others thought; she wanted to be with him. Now they could barely be in the same room together without one of them throwing accusations and blame at the other.

Sighing, he wondered what she was doing at this very moment. He felt a pang of longing to see her. He could look in on her easily, Belle never being the wiser for it. But he resisted. He wanted to approach her, but what did they possibly have to say to one another that hadn't already been said? And besides, she made it plain this morning that she wanted nothing to do with him. All she wanted was for him to find their son. And so he would. He would leave her in peace and throw himself into his work. But there was still the pull, the desire to see her look upon him with love again and not that hurt and betrayed gaze she'd set upon him that morning. That look would haunt him. Just as that green portal haunted him.

How was he to know that a magic bean would be Bae's solution? The memory of the day his father had shown his true colors played through Rumple's mind and he grimaced as he suddenly realized he'd done the exact same thing as his father. He'd let his child go.

It was a crippling revelation and Rumplestiltskin slid to the floor in anguish. He'd never wanted to be like his father and suddenly he was the very essence of the man he'd never forgiven. How could he expect his wife and son to forgive him for the very thing he still resented his father for? Was it enough that he regretted his actions? Surely his father never had. His father had the ability to come find him. And he hadn't. Was regret, remorse, and desperate grief enough to differentiate himself from the man who'd chosen youth over his own son? He couldn't bring himself to believe it. He began to weep again, overcome with sorrow, and he desperately wished that he could just drown in it and be done with his life.

Composing himself, he stood and decided that it was better to focus on work than on the pain of the past. He moved toward a shelf and pulled out one of the many books he'd collected in recent weeks. His collection was small yet, but he now had more books than most people in his village would ever see in their life, and surely there would be something in one of them that held the answer. If not, he would find more. There were plenty of desperate souls out there willing to make a deal, and he would use them all if it brought him one step closer to his son.

He opened the book then shivered, feeling his magic at work even without him doing anything. He could sense magic coming from the bathing room he'd provided for Belle. "Good," he thought, "She's at least letting my magic be of some use." He intended to give her a tour, show her all the place had to offer and instruct her on how to make the castle work for her, but they'd done nothing but fight since they set foot in here. "At least she figured it out on her own," he mused aloud, "My clever wife."

With that small comfort, he sat in a chair and began to read. He felt more focused now, the anger from yesterday more a dull ache than an overwhelming thought. He had no idea what sort of curse would get his son back, but the Reul Ghorm's hesitance assured him that there was a way. He flipped through the book, taking note of other spells and curses that could prove useful in the future. He searched, and hours melted into another day gone by. Then another and another. He hardly noticed except for the occasional pull of magic that informed him Belle had lit a fire or used warm water. It seemed that was all she did, and in the back of his mind that wasn't preoccupied with curses and his son, Rumple wondered what Belle was doing with her time.

He was brought out of those thoughts when he came across a passage in an old book he won in a deal from a neighboring village. It spoke of a curse that could transport the caster to any realm, magical or not. It could take one person, or a multitude, and Rumple found himself brimming with excitement and glee as he read the instructions on how to build the curse. It was extensive and complicated but it hardly mattered. He found it. He found a way and he began to laugh, the sound purely impish and mad. He leapt up and danced around the room, delight quickly making way for madness.

Finally he calmed himself enough to finish reading. The instructions were quite long and confusing, but Rumple paid that no mind. He'd learn. He continued reading, his grin slowly fading as he came upon the final instruction for the curse that would lead him to his son.

_The final step of the spell must be performed accurately, else the curse will not work. The caster of the spell must sacrifice the heart of the thing he loves most. Only when this is accomplished will the curse take affect and transport those specified into the world desired._

He shook his head and cursed, slamming the book closed. With a growl he threw it hard against a shelf that held empty vials, feeling a brief moment of satisfaction as they all crashed and shattered. He lost his son. The only other person he had in this world that he loved was Belle. And to find his son, he would have to take her heart. "One love for another", he thought bitterly. Then he cursed again.

"No," he whispered aloud, "I cannot do it. I will _not_ harm do it. There _has_ to be another way."

He sagged, collapsing onto the floor and lying there in a state of despair. Hours ticked by as he laid there lifeless, reflecting over the curse that had been so close to taking him to his son. Then an idea struck him. He giggled, then the sound melted into a ferocious laughter that echoed through the halls, mad and terrifying.

_He_ couldn't do it. He couldn't make that sacrifice. But someone else could. All he had to do was find someone more desperate and broken than him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> These two, man. They need to learn to communicate.
> 
> So now Rumple knows what needs to be done. But what will happen when Belle finds out? Will Belle find out? Oh dearie, dearie, dear.
> 
> Thanks to my betas. You guys are great.
> 
> Next Friday is Independence Day, but I can't imagine anything will hinder me from uploading a chapter. So, look for it on the 4th!
> 
> Thank you all for your reviews and your kind words. This week has been hard, but you guys have been great. Thank you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis.


	32. Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A woman's work is never done," she said to herself. "Looks like I have something do to."

Chapter 32. Nothing

**Please read the author's note at the end of this chapter.**

 

There was nothing do to. That was the thought that ran through Belle's head each day when she woke alone. A week after Rumple brought her here, she had woken to find all of her books piled on her vanity. That had brought her some comfort, until she grabbed one of the books to read: Bae's favorite. She cried for half the morning after that, and the books were left untouched.

Belle spent the first month of her new life in a whirlwind of loneliness and solitude. Her days were spent sleeping and venturing from her room to the kitchen, the great hall, and back to her room. She was lazy and sluggish, and the fact that Rumplestiltskin was nowhere to be found didn't help matters. She had no one to talk to, no one to help her sort her thoughts. She was alone.

That loneliness brought forth a feeling of restlessness, and two months after she arrived at the castle, Belle decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and actually do something. She began to wander around the castle, each day growing a little more brave and venturing farther from her room than the day before. She found an armory, half full of all kinds of weapons. She discovered rooms dedicated to gold, to baubles, to paintings. Her husband was becoming a hoarder she realized. Was it because they had so little for so long? Or was he trying to fill the gap of losing their son with things?

She wandered back down to the great hall, glad for the familiarity the room offered. She sat at the table wearily, then frowned. It was so dark. Resting her chin in her hand, she glanced around the room, dimly lit by scattered candles, then her eyes fell on the curtains. They were large, spanning almost to the ceiling. The curtains were dark and heavy, and Belle felt her fingers itch to rip away the fabric and bring forth the light that waited on the other side. She hadn't ventured outside since she arrived here, partially out of fear that she wouldn't be able to find her way back and partly because she worried that Rumple would come looking for her and discover her missing. Despite her wish to have nothing to do with him, she remained adamant and faithful to her promise. It was the one thing she would never do, leave him. As angry as she was, she couldn't do it to either of them. He was all she had left.

Determination seemed to strengthen her, and Belle stood deciding firmly that the curtains had to go. She needed sun. She was wilting; she could see it in the dark reflection of her vanity mirror. She looked ghostly, a lost spirit wandering the halls of her own personal hell. But no more, she decided. She was tired of mourning. She was tired of darkness and hiding. It was time to step into the light once more.

She ran out of the room, spirit renewed, and searched for a ladder. After looking for over an hour, Belle grumbled to herself and stomped back into the great hall. "Damn it," she cursed, the foul language foreign on her tongue. It felt good, and so she cursed again, this time damning the curtains, and then giggled. It was madness, she thought, to find pleasure in cursing at inanimate objects, but she hadn't spoken to anyone in so long, perhaps this was just the natural progression. "Next I'll be talking to the china," she giggled to herself, then laughed outright, finding the very thought hilarious. When she calmed herself, wiping the tears from her eyes, she sighed dramatically and said, "I need a ladder."

A ladder appeared a moment later, and Belle bit her lip in anguish. She hated using magic. She hated magic. But she had no one else to look to for help, and she had already searched for one herself. She had no choice but to rely on the magic Rumple had to accomplish her task. Shrugging, Belle climbed the ladder and took a moment to study the curtains. Never in her life had she had curtains. Her father had large pieces of fabric that were fixed to look like curtains, of course, but she never had real curtains of fine material such as these. It was almost a shame to take them down, but given the choice between darkness and light, Belle knew the curtains couldn't stay. She tugged once, surprised at how heavy they were. She leaned forward precariously, sticking her head under the curtains to get a better look at what she was doing. When she figured it out, she grabbed the curtains and pulled, and the material gave way, coming off its hinges and collapsing to the ground. Light flooded in, wrapping Belle up in warmth, and she closed her eyes in pure delight. She leaned against the ladder, basking in the rays that poured in, feeling truly warm for the first time since she arrived.

After some time she climbed down the ladder and moved it to the next curtains. She didn't stop until the entire room was bathed in sunlight, practically blinding her as light bounced off of silver and gold and other trinkets that occupied the room. Belle smiled in satisfaction, kicking all the curtains into a pile near the back corner of the room. She'd deal with them later, she decided, but first she needed some tea.

She called forth the tea tray and fixed herself a cup. She sank down in one of the chairs, enjoying the sight of trees and sky and sun, then turned her head to look around the room. Rumple had been busy it seemed, as she took in all the items he had stored here. There was a goblet made of gold, a fleece, a strange hammer. Each item sat on a pedestal, and the pedestals lapped around the room. Only a few were empty, and Belle wondered if she would find something new the next time she came into the room.

Standing, tea cup in hand, she took a turn around the room, looking at all the trinkets her husband must have dealt for. She touched them gingerly, afraid they might be magic and do…something… but her curiosity to learn outweighed her hesitance. If they were dangerous, he wouldn't leave them in a room he knew her to frequent. She knew him better than that.

Though now she wondered if she _did_ know him at all.

She turned to go back to her seat, but paused as the dust floating in the air caught her eye. She looked down at a pedestal and realized that there was a thick layer of dust covering it and the goblet she had stopped to admire. Belle ran her finger over the pedestal, looking in disgust as her finger came up gray and gritty. Looking around, Belle noticed for the first time really, that the room was a mess. Her own contribution lay in the corner.

"A woman's work is never done," she said to herself. "Looks like I have something do to."

Just as her search for a ladder had proved useless, so did her search for cleaning supplies. "He's making it so I have to use magic," Belle concluded half amused, then sighed before summoning a broom, bucket, rags, and lye. She started in the kitchen, organizing things to her preference, then moved on to the great hall. She swept, dusted, mopped, and found joy in her work. It wasn't much, but she had purpose again, and it was such a triumph over herself that she couldn't help but laugh as she dumped the filthy water out and filled it with fresh, hot water.

After the great hall, she cleaned her own room, scrubbing it spotless. Then she discovered a small shelf in one of the many closets she was cleaning out to become her supply closet, and set about nailing it to the wall in her bedroom, next to her bed. She placed all her books on it, grateful that for the first time, her books had a proper place. It was another small triumph, and Belle could feel the bitterness and anger begin to dissipate. Perhaps, even after everything, she would be all right.

~000~

Another month passed, this time quite pleasantly. Belle had cleaned every room she found, and even began to take inventory of all the items within. It was a pointless task, but one she enjoyed. She organized as she went, dragging large paintings and carrying boxes of things around their respective rooms until there seemed to be some order. The floor wasn't scattered with swords and tapestries anymore, and Belle found the more she cleaned, the better she felt. She was useful again, in her own way, and it brought the comfort she sought, if only in part.

It became routine to clean, and after Belle had organized all the rooms she dared venture to, she went back and started over. She hadn't explored all the castle; she was certain she hadn't even explored half of it. But the eleven rooms she had taken over as her personal project were enough for now, she reasoned, and once she finished cleaning them all, she went back and started again.

She was dusting the great hall once more and noticed absently that there were new items, sitting pretty on columns that lined the entire room. It was the only way she knew her husband came and went from this place, the increasing number of trinkets. She knew he acquired them in deals, but she knew nothing else about them. As she dusted, she observed each object carefully. Many looked normal, but Belle knew not to be deceived by their basic appearance. Though she couldn't help but wonder what her husband could possibly want with these things. He was never around, as far as she knew, and she had no desire yet to summon him to ask. So instead she made up scenarios of what things were, and why they would be useful. The goblet perhaps was magical and never ran out of what was poured into it.

"That would be a drunkard's dream come true," she said as she swept her rag inside the goblet, removing the slight dust that had gathered. What Belle could never imagine was what made these people give up these items in a deal with the Dark One. Were people truly so desperate?

She paused. Yes, she thought. She knew that desperation well. She would give anything to have her son back.

Banishing that thought, she continued to dust, marveling at the new trinkets that adorned the columns and smiling at the familiarity of the old. She walked on, content to only dust half of the room for today, then stopped as she noticed a podium that stood out further from the others. On it sat a wand. Belle felt a feeling of uneasiness wash over her at the sight. She knew fairies carried wands, and it gave her chills to think of what could make a fairy so desperate that she would call on the Dark One.

It was with that thought Belle realized she truly had no idea what her husband's deals were about. True she had made up her own stories and attached them to objects for amusement, but those were only idle thoughts to occupy a mind in need of stimulation. What were these objects? Were they important? Were they going to help Rumplestiltskin find their son? It was with shame that Belle realized she didn't know because she'd made it clear she didn't want to know. And by refusing to know what her husband was doing, she no longer knew her husband. Even while standing in the bright light of the great hall, she was still utterly in the dark.

An angry shout and a loud crash startled her out of her dark revelation. Suddenly concerned that something awful had happened, Belle rushed from the room, following the sound of wreckage and rampage. She came to a door, one she knew she'd never seen before and threw it open, gasping when she saw Rumplestiltskin standing in a room trashed in the wake of some outburst.

"Are you all right?" She asked, her first words to him in months, "I heard a crash- is that a _hand_?"

Rumplestiltskin glanced down at the floor where Belle was staring in horror and snarled. "Yes. And it's completely useless."

"I'm s-sure it is…considering it's not attached to its owner." She blinked and swallowed thickly, "Why… do you have a- a hand?" She felt ill, seeing the mutilated limb lying in the midst of rubble. It was disgusting, but Belle couldn't look away, irrational worried that it might spring to life and move. With Rumplestiltskin, she was certain it was possible.

"It belonged to a no good ruffian who made a deal with me then backed out at the last minute." With another cry of anger, Rumplestiltskin grabbed a chair that was overturned next to him and hurled it against the wall, causing Belle to jump.

"So you took his hand?" She asked, her voice squeaking as she tried to control herself. The longer she looked at it, the sicker she felt.

"Yes!" Rumplestiltskin cried, "He was holding a bean! A bean that should have been _mine_! But the bastard tricked me and now I'm back where I started which is nowhere!" He growled and kicked at the rubbish at his feet.

This was what she had been waiting for, she realized with a start. Had she not just been thinking about this? About not knowing what her husband did? Perhaps this was an opportunity to try and mend the gap she had placed between them. It was worth a shot at any rate. Belle stepped forward and tentatively reached out to Rumplestiltskin, "Maybe there's another way?" She asked. Rumplestiltskin glared and jerked away from her.

"What would you know about it?" He sneered.

Belle stood silent for a moment as she composed herself. She didn't know anything. And it was by her own doing. "Nothing, I suppose," she replied calmly, dryly. "I suppose I know _nothing_." She turned on her heel and fled the room. Rumplestiltskin trembled in anger and let out another gut wrenching scream before vanishing in a cloud of smoke.

~000~

Belle stormed into her room and slammed the door. She paused a moment, realizing it felt good, so she threw the door open once more and slammed it as hard as she could. She did it once more, letting out a scream of frustration as she did it, then turned and flopped down on her bed. She felt better, if not completely childish. She lay for a long while, staring at the vaulted ceiling, her eyes following the wood and looking for abstract shapes in the design. It was mindless, but she felt if she didn't do something to calm herself, she would storm downstairs and rage at her husband for being such a pig-headed buffoon. But she was better than that. Sighing, she rolled over and fell asleep, hoping that a few hours unconscious would help calm her.

She awoke, blinking in confusion as she realized it was dawn. "I was more exhausted than I realized," she said to herself, before standing and stretching. She knew she should go about her day as normal, but she felt herself regressing back to the lazy sadness that had held her captive not that long ago. She didn't want to downstairs, nor was she very hungry, so instead she went over to the shelf she had put up and grabbed a book. Crawling onto the bed, she flopped onto her stomach and for the first time since her son had vanished, she began to read.

Hours later, there was a tentative knock at Belle's door. She looked up from her book sharply, eyes wide. After a moment, there was another knock, this one barely louder, and Belle struggled to speak.

"C-come in."

The door opened slowly, and Rumplestiltskin peeked his head in, moving back quickly when he noticed the book in Belle's hands.

"I'm not going to throw it, if that's what you're worried about," she said as she sat on her knees. The door opened wider, and Rumple stepped inside, looking miserable. He stood for several long moments, regarding Belle curiously. She took the opportunity to observe him as well. When the silence began to grow uncomfortable, Belle shifted, wondering if she should say something. "No," she thought to herself, "He came to me. He will speak when he's ready."

Finally, he cleared his throat and glanced down at his feet, looking every bit the awkward young man who'd been so afraid of asking to court her. She couldn't fight the smile that touched her lips. This wasn't the Dark One come to fight, she realized. This was her husband come to talk.

"I wanted to…apologize," he said at length. "I-" he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, clearly having no idea what he wanted to say. "I had such hope," he whispered, "With that bean. It was going to be over. Now I'm no closer than I was before."

"Can you find the man?" Belle asked hesitantly, wanting to help but having no idea how. "Perhaps trade his hand for the bean?"

Rumple chuckled and stepped closer, "My clever wife," he said gently, "I went after him. He's gone."

"Gone?" Belle asked, worry gripping her. She placed the book to her side. "As in-"

"He used the bean," Rumple explained, "He's gone."

Belle could see the storm in Rumplestiltskin's eyes. There was such anger there, at this man who'd tricked him. And anger at himself. It made her own ire at him diminish slightly, seeing how conflicted and determined he was to reach their son. It seemed that the months apart had calmed her considerably; she no longer despised Rumplestiltskin for what he'd done. The hurt and anger were still there, but it only simmered now. Solitude and quiet could apparently do a great deal to mellow one out.

"Oh," she said at last, not surprised when a tear slid down her cheek.

Rumplestiltskin stepped forward, and for a moment Belle hoped that he might try to comfort her. It had been so long since she had seen or touched her husband that the thought of even a brush of his fingers excited her. It was a surprise, to find desire still there in the midst of all the bitter hurt, but she was grateful for it nonetheless and waited almost eagerly for her husband to reach her. He paused, his fingers a breath away from her, then lowered his hand. Belle sighed.

"It's…. nice to see you," he offered softly.

Belle nodded. "It's nice to see you too."

"Really?" He sounded so awed, so amazed and pitiful that Belle couldn't help but cry.

"Yes," she admitted, before pausing and wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm being silly."

He shook his head and produced a handkerchief for her. She took it gratefully and blew her nose, then focused on taking deep breaths so she could calm down. Rumple stood awkwardly, watching as Belle collected herself. She didn't know what to and it seemed neither did he. How had they become so close only to fall so far apart? Deciding it might be best to get some grievances out of the way, in the hopes of making their lives easier, Belle opened her mouth to speak.

"Rumple, I-"

A loud crash sounded, and Rumple glanced away with alarm.

"What was that?" Belle asked, worried.

The tenderness that had warmed Rumplestiltskin's features melted, and suddenly he was the cold Dark One again. "I think, my dear," he said menacingly, "We have a visitor."

He turned to leave, but Belle sprang up to follow. Rumple turned to stop her. "Stay here," he pleaded but her eyes narrowed and she shook her head.

"I'm going with you."

He didn't have the time nor desire to fight so with a resigned sigh, he motioned for her to follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th to my fellow Americans and a happy belated Canada Day to my Canadians (and beta, sirensong24).
> 
> Yes, that was Hook's hand. No, we're not going to actually meet Hook.
> 
> On that note, I want to take a moment to explain something, since I'm beginning to get questions on the matter. I thought long and hard about this, debated heavily with myself, and pleaded with my betas to help. After all that, and making an excel timeline of not only canon!Rumbelle but The Valley!Rumbelle, I made the decision that the timeline in which Rumple searches for his son and interacts with other characters in The Valley was going to be heavily condensed. Meaning, it's not going to take centuries for Rumple to find a way to his son. This also means that interactions with characters, events, and character's ages are going to be altered in some respects for the sake of this story. You'll see examples coming up soon.
> 
> I hope that makes sense. Thank you everyone for staying with me this long. It means the world to me.
> 
> I'm currently writing Chapter 44. I anticipate having no more than 50 chapters.
> 
> Chapter 33 will be up July 11!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	33. The Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you just love magic? I know I do."

Chapter 33: The Thief

Belle and Rumple rushed down the hallway. There was another small crash, and Belle heard Rumple growl under his breath. Whoever had dared enter their castle was in trouble, she realized with a start. This would not end well.

When they reached the Great Hall, Belle noticed a man in a green cloak holding the wand she had been contemplating before. Belle didn't know much about magic, but she knew fairy wands were powerful, and she suddenly felt fear at what this man might do. He didn't seem alarmed, or even upset that he'd been caught, and Belle wondered if he had some sort of trick up his sleeve. Surely everyone knew who her husband was? Or was he just a poor, unfortunate soul who stumbled into something he didn't quite understand?

The man smirked, and beside her, Rumplestiltskin sneered.

"Are you sure you want to do this, dearie?" He asked menacingly. Belle winced. He'd called her that when they'd fought that first night in the castle. It sounded just as cruel now as it did then, and Belle hoped to never be referred to as 'dearie' ever again. The man smirked again, and Rumple growled once more. It sent a shiver down Belle's spine. She looked between the two men, wondering who would strike first: Rumple or the stranger.

Wanting there to be no attack at all, Belle stepped closer and placed her hand on Rumple's arm. He tensed a moment, then relaxed slightly. Belle let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe she could keep them both calm, and they could talk out the issue. Belle didn't want to witness a fight, especially if it could lead to murder. She had no doubt of her husband's abilities, and as much as they frightened her at times, she feared the unknown more. That wand had the potential to do dangerous things, she figured. And considering the man viewed them as the foe, he would most likely use it. Belle shuddered to think of what could happen.

The man pushed back his hood, to reveal a young, handsome face. "Yeah, I think I do want to," he said cockily, as if he were unaware that he were speaking to the Dark One. Perhaps he was.

Rumplestiltskin stared, unimpressed. "You know who I am, right?" He asked, voicing what Belle desperately wanted to know as well. The stranger nodded then tucked the wand into the quiver at his back.

"You're the Dark One," the man said, "Deal-Maker. Magic man," he said, wiggling his fingers as if to demonstrate, "You take items and give people what they want in return. And I need this."

"That's not how my deals work, dearie," Rumple said icily, "Both parties have to be interested in order to make a deal, so I'll offer you this: give me that wand, and I'll let you live."

Belle's hand tightened on Rumple's arm, but Rumple paid her no mind. His focus was entirely on the man before him, and Belle's fear began to grow. If the stranger didn't take the deal, Rumple would kill him. Belle swallowed thickly, and began to pray the man would see reason and give up his fool's errand, whatever it was.

"Nah," The man said at last, "The wand'll do."

"If you don't know how to use it, nasty things could happen," Rumplestiltskin warned, and Belle reflected back to the magic bean. It had been more than 'nasty'. It had been downright devastating. Was that Rumple's motivation, she wondered? In some twisted way, was he trying to protect this man from making the same mistake he had made?

The man moved, drawing Belle out of her contemplation. He pulled out an arrow from his quiver, set, and aimed it directly at Rumplestiltskin. "Then I'll stick to what I know works."

Rumplestiltskin laughed. "Has to hit me first." He paid a small glance to Belle, pushing her back with his arm and disappeared. Belle gasped, glancing cautiously at the man with the arrow who was looking around in confusion. Rumplestiltskin appeared again, this time on the other end of the room, behind the stranger. The man readied his arrow again. "Shouldn't be a problem. An arrow fired from this bow always finds its target." He smirked. "Don't you just love magic? I know I do."

He fired the arrow and Belle cried out, her worst fears coming true. Her eyes widened in horror as the arrow struck Rumplestiltskin in the chest. He stumbled backwards, and Belle rushed toward him, needing to assess the damage before she sought help. Would he survive? Would the man show mercy and leave them be?

Rumplestiltskin stumbled backwards, glancing down in surprise to see the end of the arrow sticking out of his chest. It hurt, tremendously so, but he couldn't let it show. Instead he laughed, painful though it was, and jerked the arrow out. Belle staggered to a stop near him, and he healed himself, throwing the arrow down. He glanced at Belle and nodded slightly, letting her know he was alright. She stopped her approach, and it put Rumple at ease. If she were close, she might become a target, and the last thing Rumplestiltskin wanted was for Belle to be injured in a fight that was not hers.

Rumple returned his attention to the stranger, who stood staring aghast. "Indeed I do," Rumple said, stepped forward, his boots echoing throughout the hall. "But what I don't think you know, dearie," Rumple sneered as he stalked toward the man, "Is that all magic comes with a price. And in your case," he said, reaching out and binding the man with a tendril of purple smoke, "That's _me._ "

Rumplestiltskin began to drag the man out of the room, unfazed by his kicking and struggling. In his efforts to free himself, the bow slipped out of his hands and Rumple kicked it out of the way. "And I'll take the bow to compensate you wasting my time," He said, giggling menacingly.

"What are you going to do with him?" Belle asked, rushing forward to meet Rumple at the doorway. She glanced at the man who was still struggling, and he met her eyes for a brief moment. She felt something for him, this stranger who had invaded her home and tried to steal from her husband. Even as cruel as he'd been, she refused to believe he had come with only cruel intentions.

"I'm taking him to the dungeon, of course," he said, "He's a thief; thieves must be punished."

Before she could protest, the shock of the revelation that they had a dungeon stalled her, and Rumplestiltskin vanished with the man. A moment later she heard a _pop_ and turned to see the magic wand had been restored to its rightful place. Biting her lip, she stood at the threshold, debating on what she needed to do.

~000~

Knowing she would confront Rumplestiltskin when he returned from the dungeon, Belle wandered to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She returned to the great hall and sat, taking small sips as she waited for her husband. She lifted her cup to take another sip, startling when she heard a tortured scream echo throughout the halls. She dropped the cup in her surprise, and rushed to the doorway. She peered in, wincing again when she heard another scream. Her hands flew to her mouth as her gag reflexes kicked in, and she feared for a moment that she might vomit. She managed to control herself, and stepped away from the door, appalled over what she knew her husband was doing.

She knew she needed to act, but nothing could be done while Rumplestiltskin was with the man. Belle would have to wait, as much as it pained her to do so, before she did anything. She would assess the man's wounds and do her best to help him escape if she could. It was the right thing to do, she thought as she grabbed her broom to occupy herself until her husband had satisfied his bloodlust. She swept angrily, thinking of how to get the man out of the castle when she barely knew the way herself. But she could give him a chance, if he survived this encounter. But Belle would have to be quick if she were going to save this man, which she was determined to do. He may have shot her husband, which she admitted made her not quite fond of the stranger, but she still firmly believed that his intentions, no matter how misguided, had been good. She couldn't explain it, but something in her gut told her there was more to the man's cockiness and foolish bravado than he let on.

She managed to get the entire room swept before Rumplestiltskin appeared. He wore an apron that was covered in blood, and Belle felt herself feel sick again. Rumplestiltskin untied the strings and threw it in frustration on the table. He noticed Belle standing there, looking horrified and holding a broom. He gestured to it.

"What are you doing?"

She gripped the broom in her hands and stepped forward, "I'm sweeping," she explained dryly, "What are _you_ doing?"

He glanced at the tea set and picked up a cup, frowning as he glanced at the cup she had dropped earlier. It had a small chip in the rim, Belle noticed, but Rumple seemed unbothered by the fact. He poured some tea into the cup and said nonchalantly, "Taking a break."

Belle's lip curled. "Rumplestiltskin, this isn't you!" She declared hotly, "You're not the sort of man who _tortures_ people!"

"Stop assuming you know what kind of man I am," he spat, standing up sharply, "You wanted nothing to do with me, remember? How would you know who I am now when you hardly even speak to me?"

He turned and began to walk away. Belle swallowed thickly before calling out, "Where are you going?"

"Why do you care?" He asked sharply, turning around to face her.

"Because you just tortured a man who merely wanted a wand!" She cried.

"He tried to steal from me! No one takes what's mine and gets away with it!"

Belle stared hard, her knuckles turning white against the broom handle. Rumple's face softened as he noticed the tears that filled his wife's eyes, but he knew she would not let him try to comfort her. It seemed with every step they took toward each other, something always pushed them two steps back.

"I'll be back," he said resigned, "Finish doing," he glanced again at the broom, "Whatever it is you're doing."

He disappeared out the door, and Belle stood for a long time staring at the space he'd occupied. Then her brow furrowed in determination, and she threw the broom to the floor. "No one steals from the Dark One, hmm?" Belle asked aloud as she glanced at the doorway leading to the dungeon. Biting her lip, she set aside the broom and steeled her nerves. "Just watch me."

~000~

Belle fetched a cup of water from the kitchen, then ran to the door Rumple had dragged the man through. It led to a narrow hallway that turned into a winding staircase, and Belle murmured a desire for light. The candles that lined the halls flickered to life, and she sighed in relief. At the bottom of the seemingly endless staircase was another hallway. The door on the other end looked menacing, but Belle pushed onward and stepped through. On the other side of the door were two rows of doors, no doubt cells for prisoners. "Why do we have a dungeon?" Belle asked herself curiously, "And how many more people could possibly be down here?"

She called out a hesitant, "Hello?" And was relieved when she only heard one person call out in reply. He sounded weak, but alive, and Belle was grateful for that fact alone. She rushed to the door and pushed it open, gasping when she saw the thief strung up on chains, his clothing torn and blood covering his entire body.

Belle rushed forward, and the man glanced at her with a pained yet humored look. "The Dark One send his pretty maid to finish the job?" He asked.

Belle ignored him and put the cup up to his lips. "Hush and drink," she told him, and the man did so gratefully.

Once he was satisfied, Belle put the cup down and began working at the ropes and chains that held the man up.

"Why are you doing this?" The man asked as Belle managed to get the last rope unknotted. The weight gave way and he fell hard onto the floor, groaning in pain.

"Sorry," she said sincerely, then knelt down at his side to remove the chains from him. "I can't let this go on. It's inhumane."

"I couldn't agree more," the man said weakly. Belle helped him sit up and checked his wounds. It was nothing that wouldn't heal in time, but the blood made it look far worse. She hesitated a moment, then said aloud, "I need water and a clean cloth."

A moment later the items appeared in front of her, and the stranger tried to move away from her. "Are you a witch?"

She shook her head, amused at the thought, and motioned for him to turn around so she could clean the cuts. He did so, and Belle set to work. It was a sloppy job, but she felt pressed for time and wanted the man to have a chance at escape.

When she finished his back, she turned him around and wiped at the blood that stained his face. "I fear he'll turn his wrath on you," he whispered, hissing in pain when she pressed a little too hard.

Belle apologized, then added as an afterthought, "He won't hurt me."

"How can you be so sure-ow!" He said as Belle wiped at a particularly nasty cut on his cheek.

"Sorry," she said again. "And I know because he's my husband. He won't hurt me."

The man stared at her in shock. "You're married to that beast?"

She nodded, then pulled on the man's hand to help him stand. "He wasn't always this way."

"Perhaps you should come with me," he said gently, "I could protect you."

Belle shook her head. "I don't need protection," she said, "I need you to get out of here. Can you walk?"

The man nodded. "I'll be slow, but I can manage."

"Good," Belle said, then pushed at him, "Go. Now. I can't promise you anything other than a chance. So you'd best take it now."

"Thank you," he said, "I'm in your debt."

"You won't be if you're caught. I won't be able to save you a second time. Now go!"

The man nodded once and took off in a fast-paced limp toward the stairs. Belle waited a moment, then shut the door to the dungeon. She ran out as quickly as she could, hoping she would never have cause to set foot in such a place ever again.

She reached the great hall and stood anxiously, not knowing what to do now that she'd let the Dark One's prisoner go free. He was nowhere to be found, and Belle wished him well in his endeavors. She hoped, if she ever met the man again, it would be under much better circumstances. She decided to have another cup of tea and moved over to the table, stopping when she saw the bloodied apron lying there. Grimacing, Belle changed her mind, and picked up the edge of the apron with the very tips of her fingers, deciding it might be best to wash away any evidence they'd had a prisoner here.

If Belle could forget, she would happily do so.

~000~

Dirty, wet, and cold, Belle knelt on the floor, scrubbing the apron. It was disgusting, scrubbing away the blood of another man. Belle felt her stomach turn, and she shut her eyes and tried to think happier, less bloody thoughts. When she finished, she debated on going to change, but thought better of it. She wanted to be present the moment Rumplestiltskin returned, and she knew if she went to her room to change, she would come up with a reason to stay there. And Belle wanted to be brave. She'd made her choice, and even if she hadn't been certain of her decision, it was too late now.

Rumplestiltskin returned a few minutes later, looking angry, but at least a bit calmer. He stopped when he noticed Belle's appearance, but he made no comment, instead shaking his head and making his way to the dungeon.

Belle sat, sipping her tea, and began to count. "Ten, nine, eight…"

She reached three, then winced as she heard Rumplestiltskin call out, _"Belle_!"

She took a long breath and reminded herself to be brave. She'd done the right thing, she told herself. A moment later, Rumplestiltskin appeared in the doorway, his eyes flashing angrily.

"Where is he?"

"I let him go," she said aloud, grateful her voice didn't waver.

Rumplestiltskin blinked. "You….let him….go?"

"Yes."

Rumplestiltskin stared at her in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I believe he's innocent."

"Oh! Is that so, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin laughed heartily and moved over to where the wand previously sat. He pointed to it dramatically, and Belle gasped as she realized it was gone. "Because I don't!"

"W-why does it matter that he stole that wand?" She asked hesitantly.

"I need it! It could help me reach Bae!"

"You probably say that about every magical item you bring back," she recanted dryly, realizing too late how hateful the words had sounded.

"Even still," Rumple said, his voice lowering into that broken, more human-like tone, "I thought my wife might be on my side."

Belle felt shame. She hadn't intended for things to be this way. She knew he would be angry, but there was something else in his eyes. He looked as if she had betrayed him. And in some small way, hadn't she? Because of her, the wand was now gone.

Whatever had caused Rumple's solemnness vanished then, and he glanced at her with a look of distaste. "Well," he said with a lilting tone, that signaled the return of the Dark One, "I suppose there's only one thing for it."

"What?"

"We're going to go retrieve it." Before Belle could respond, Rumple used magic to clothe himself in his cloak. Another puff of smoke appeared, and the bow and quiver that had belonged to the man appeared in his hands. "And if he doesn't cooperate, I'll find out just how useful this bow is," he said eerily. Then he glanced pointedly at Belle. "And because this is your fault, you're going to come and watch."

"What? No I'm not-"

She felt herself surrounded with Rumple's magic and frowned when she saw the gold dress from her wardrobe draped across her. Over that was a warm, woolen green cloak. She looked elegant, she thought absently, but the thought was banished as Rumple grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the door.

"Come, _wife,_ " he sneered, "Let's go see what becomes of your little thief."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying everything so far! Chapter 34 will be up July 18 (gosh, this year is going by so fast!)
> 
> Thank you to my betas, as usual, and thank you everyone who had reviewed, favorited, and followed. I appreciate it so much!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. Any characters, scenes, or dialogue you recognize are property of ABC and Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis.


	34. What Good Men Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple thought back to the days when he'd felt that same happiness, that same passion for the woman beside him, and he realized suddenly that he wanted to feel that again.

34\. What Good Men Do

Rumplestiltskin pulled Belle behind him out of the castle. Belle blinked as the bright sunlight hit her face. She had no idea where they were going, but let him drag her along, knowing it would be futile to try to fight with him now.

They arrived at a stable and Belle noticed that to the left was a pen with the sheep roaming inside. She pulled her hand away and stopped, staring at the animals with surprise. She had been so caught up in her own misery that she'd completely forgotten about them. But they looked happy and healthy, running around in the brisk autumn weather. Belle frowned. How much had Rumple been doing while she had been curled up in her room, angry and moping. Shame gripped her, and despite everything that was going on, she made a vow in that moment to be better when they returned.

With that, she turned to Rumple, who had gone off in her distraction to ready a carriage. There were four black horses hooked up to the carriage, and Belle stepped forward to pet the one closest to her. It whinnied at her touch and she smiled, the animal nuzzling against her affectionately. Rumple appeared beside her and tugged on her arm, more gently than before. "Come," he instructed. Belle followed, letting him help her into the carriage. He hopped inside and clapped his hands, and the horses began trotting at a quick pace down the path.

Belle glanced behind her, and seeing no driver, turned to look at Rumple. "How-"

"Magic," he snapped, then closed his eyes, and took a breath. When he opened them again he was calmer. "They're cared for by magic, though I come out once a week and brush them."

"Where did you get them?" Belle asked softly. Rumple shrugged.

"As I do all things," he stated, "A deal."

They rode in silence for a while. At length it grew cooler, and despite the warmth of her cloak, Belle shivered. She felt something heavy on her lap a moment later to see Rumple had produced a large wool blanket that lay draped over both their laps. Smiling softly at the thought of sharing a blanket with her husband, she pulled it closer, sat back, and shut her eyes. If she kept them closed, she could imagine she was on a pleasant ride with her husband, and not on a chase to find a thief.

Belle opened her eyes and studied her husband with that thought. He was looking around intently, concentrating on locating the man. She felt the shame from earlier grip her once more, and she shivered once more. It was wrong, what the man had done, but was it not also wrong to torture someone? Belle felt conflicted, knowing she had angered her husband. She remained resolute though, in the fact that it was wrong of Rumple to torture the man. The man she married was not a torturer and she would not stand by and let him succumb to the darkness any further. She wanted to save her husband from the evil that had taken root in him, and she knew the only way to do that was to convince him to let the stranger go.

She hoped he would listen to her. She knew she'd given him no reason to trust her. But she had to try.

~000~

They rode in silence for a while longer. Belle began to grow impatient, and even the blanket was starting to have little affect against the cold. At length Rumple sighed.

"We're losing track of him," he said, "This forest is too thick."

"Maybe we should go home?" Belle offered helpfully. Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes.

"No."

Belle opened her mouth to speak, stopping only when Rumple raised his hand. Thinking he was shushing her, she glared, but then noticed he was not looking at her, but _past_ her. She turned around as well, tilting her head in puzzlement when she saw a man in black standing in the road. He held the reigns of a horse, and look proud and angry.

Rumple pushed the blanket off and stepped out of the carriage. He glanced between the man and Belle, then held out his hand for Belle to take. She did, and stepped out of the carriage carefully.

"Stay behind me," Rumple murmured as they walked forward, and Belle felt no inclination to disobey.

"What are you doing in my woods?" The man demanded, looking cocky and smug. Rumple paused and bowed gracefully before replying.

"I'm looking for a thief," he said, his accent twisting into something strange. Belle raised an eyebrow at his theatrics. This wasn't like him at all. "He stole something of mine. I want it back."

The man in black nodded in understanding. "I know who he is," the man said, "And I'll tell you all you want to know…for a price."

"I see you know who I am," Rumple said, amused.

The man nodded, "The Dark One," he acknowledged. "A powerful creature who can do anything. You're a legend in these parts."

"Always nice to make an impression," Rumplestiltskin tittered. "Now, what's your price?"

The man looked Rumple up and down, then his eyes shifted and landed on Belle. He grinned appreciatively. "How 'bout a night with your wench?" He asked, the look on his face making Belle shudder in disgust.

Rumple glanced back to look at his wife, and she stared at him in horror. He gave her an assuring glance, then turned back to the man in black. "I think not," Rumple said.

"Then how about an hour?" The man bargained. Rumple shook his head and the man tried once more, "Twenty minutes?"

Rumple stepped forward, his gaze growing dark. "I have a better idea," he said with a manic giggle. With a wave of his hand, the man's eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. He looked, as did Belle, is shock as Rumplestiltskin held the man's tongue in between his fingers. "Now, let's get something straight," he said as he waved the tongue in the man's direction. "She is _not_ a wench. She's my wife."

The man's eyes widened and he began to grunt and whine in apology. Rumple continued, "It would behoove you to treat her with the same respect you would show me. In fact," Rumple said, "It would probably be wise to treat all women with the same respect you would show me. Are we clear?"

The man nodded eagerly, obviously desperate to appease the enraged Dark One. Rumple nodded, and continued, "How about this deal? I give you your tongue, in exchange for two things: an apology to my wife and where to find that thief."

The man nodded again, and motioned for Rumplestiltskin to give him back his tongue. Rumple leaned forward, frowning. "I'm sorry, what was that? I can't quite hear you."

The man grunted loudly, sounding like a pig. Rumplestiltskin laughed, then the tongue disappeared from sight. A moment later, the man gasped appreciatively and stuck his tongue out to test the muscle. Rumple crossed his arms. "She's waiting." Rumple motioned for Belle to join him and she did. Placing his arm around her waist, Rumple glared at the man, who dropped to his knees before her.

"I am sorry, milady," he said, "Please forgive me."

"You're forgiven," Belle said simply. She was disgusted by the entire display she'd just witnessed and wanted nothing more than to go home. Rumple, however, seemed determined to follow through with his plan to catch the thief.

"Now the man?"

"His name is Robin Hood. He's a menace. He stole my love," the man chuckled darkly, "He rather has a penchant for taking what is not his."

"Where can I find him?" Rumple asked, uninterested in the man's story.

The man pointed to the east. "He has a camp down that road, though they move frequently. I've never had any luck in catching him, but perhaps you will fare better than I, what with your magic."

"Oh, I intend to," Rumple declared, then turned away from the man. He pressed his hand against Belle's back and led her toward the carriage. Belle glanced over her shoulder once more, to see the man staring at her. She shivered, and Rumple turned his head to look at her in concern.

"I'm cold," she managed, preferring to leave it be and get on with things. The carriage began to move again and Belle sighed. She hoped this Robin Hood was far away by now. Whatever he wanted the wand for, she refused to believe it was for evil. Rumple noticed her pensive gaze and asked what was the matter. She told him her thoughts, and Rumple scoffed.

"Clearly you aren't aware of just how wicked people can be," he said, "No good will come from that man having that wand, I guarantee it."

"And I guarantee that it won't," she pressed. "Rumple, please-"

"Enough," he snapped. "That's enough."

She glared, but slumped back into her seat and refused to look at him.

Eventually they stopped, the forest becoming too thick for the horse and carriage to pass through. Rumple tied the horse, then grabbed the bow and quiver and made his way through the forest. After a few steps, he turned and scowled.

"Come on."

She sighed and followed, deciding it would be better to stay with her husband than risk running into that horrid man in black again. She followed Rumple silently for a few minutes. Finally, after stepping in mud and tripping for the third time, she stopped and growled, "I'm not going to stand by and watch you…I don't know… kill this man!"

Rumple turned and glowered. "Well, you're welcome to sit if you like-"

"You're not going to hurt him!"

"And you're going to stop me?"

Before she could respond, there was a rustling in the bushes. "What was that?" Belle asked. He grabbed Belle's hand and led her over to the edge of a bank, looking down to see Robin hiding at the bottom amid some trees. He looked around impatiently, and Rumple smirked.

"Got you," he said triumphantly.

"He's waiting for someone," Belle observed. Rumple shrugged.

"No doubt more ruffians like him," he said.

A moment later, a carriage arrived and Robin ran out of his hiding spot to where it stopped. Belle stepped forward. "There's a woman," she said, glancing back at Rumple. "She…she's sick. Rumple, he took the wand to heal her! I told you it was for good!"

She turned fully to regard Rumple, who looked unmoved. "There are plenty of methods to heal someone," he sneered, "That don't require stealing from me."

"He's trying to save the woman he loves." She turned back and smiled as she watched the man wave the wand over the deathly pale woman. "It's sweet."

"It's ridiculous," he said as he readied the arrow.

Belle had had enough. "Stop!" She cried, grabbing his arm, jostling him. "Please," she begged, "You never listen to me and look where we are! Please, Rumplestiltskin, for once in your life trust me!"

Rumple hesitated, his hands gripping the bow but making no attempt to raise it again. He watched as the woman sat up, looking healthy and happy. In his delight, Robin tossed the wand aside and took the woman in his arms. The blanket that had covered her slipped down, and Rumple's breath hitched at the sight: the woman was pregnant. Images flashed through his mind of himself, and his impending fatherhood, and the sacrifices he'd made in order to be with his son. He'd shattered his leg, he'd broken into a castle and stolen a dagger. This man was a reflection of him, Rumple realized, though he seemed no more interested in the wand now that it had served his purpose.

Beside him, Belle let out a sigh. "She's pregnant," Belle breathed, squeezing Rumple's arm tightly. "I was right about him. He wanted to help her."

Rumple watched as the couple embraced, Robin kneeling down to press his hands and lips to the woman's stomach. They looked so happy, so in love. Rumple thought back to the days when he'd felt that same happiness, that same passion for the woman beside him, and he realized suddenly that he wanted to feel that again. He missed his wife, missed the love and passion and happiness they'd shared for so long. He'd tainted them with his magic, but this could be his chance to make things right. He wasn't a murderer, not truly. He'd lost sight of himself along the way, but Belle had always been the light in the darkness. Perhaps this could be the start of their finding their way back to each other.

There was only one way to find out.

He lifted his hand, letting the arrow float in front of them. Belle looked up in alarm, but Rumple gave her no time to speak or worry. He let the arrow fly forth magically, and it struck the top of the carriage that had delivered the woman. Robin and his lover looked around in fear, and they heard Robin say, "We've been found. Hurry."

He lifted her onto the horse, and they, along with the carriage, took off toward the west.

Belle glanced at Rumple curiously. "What was that?"

Rumple shrugged. "A warning. I'm sure that Sheriff will be after them soon enough. Best to give them a head start."

"You're letting him go?"

"Well, I'm not clearly following him anymore."

Belle stepped in front of Rumple, staring at him in wonder and surprise.

"Why?"

Sighing, Rumple took Belle's hands in his. "Because you're right," he sighed eventually. He patted her hand and added, "Let's go home."

He turned to move, but Belle squeezed his hand to stall him. He looked at her with confusion, then tensed when she flung herself forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Thank you," she whispered against him, "Thank you so much."

She released him, then stepped around him to walk back toward the carriage. After several steps she paused and glanced behind her to see him still standing there, staring after her.

"Are you coming?" She asked sweetly, and for a moment it was as if they were happy again. She was looking at him with something that resembled kindness and he felt the darkness that surrounded his heart fade ever so slightly. He nodded and moved after his wife, a stupid smile forming over his lips when she slipped her hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like someone's making progress...
> 
> Thank you everyone for your continued support. It means so much to me.
> 
> Chapter 35 will be up July 25!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters, scenes, and dialogue you recognize belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	35. Quite the Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I would do anything for you," he said softly. "Please tell me you know that."

35\. Quite the Conundrum

A peace settled between Belle and Rumple in the days that followed. Things were still tense and awkward, but there were no more harsh words or snapping accusations. There was a balance, and they walked the line carefully, but both recognized the significance of what such a truce meant. They were getting better. There was still plenty of anger and bitterness between them, but they both no knew that could overcome it. Eventually.

Encouraged by the shift, Belle began to cheer up. Nothing could mend the absolute sorrow of the loss of her son, but she began to explore more, and she even ventured outside. It was getting warmer, far too late to work the gardens, but Belle began taking stock of everything that was there, determined to bring it to life the next year. It felt good to plan ahead and have a purpose, and that gave Belle even more life.

She began to spend more time in the stables as well, tending the sheep and the horses. They were fed and watered through magic, but the horses still seemed to enjoy the occasional treat Belle brought them. The sheep were vibrant and healthy and ran wild in their large pen. Belle leaned on the gate and watched them, smiling as two of the young rams charged and head-butted each other. It felt like old times, and Belle was grateful for it.

Her exploration extended to the rest of the castle too. She wandered aimlessly, letting the hallways twist and turn and lead her to wherever. She felt no fear now, knowing she would always find her way back. She felt more at ease now and began to view the castle as her home.

One day, about two weeks after the incident, Belle happened upon a room at the top of a spiral staircase. She could hear noise on the other side and peeked through the door curiously. "Oh!" She breathed, startled to see the room full of shelves and tables. Everything was covered with parchment and books and other strange objects she couldn't quite name.

She stepped inside, her curiosity pulling her, only to bump right into Rumplestiltskin. She stumbled, but he reached out and steadied her with his arm.

"Are you all right?" He asked, making sure she was balanced before letting go. Belle nodded and Rumple side stepped to the nearest table and placed the book he'd been holding on top of it. "Did you need something?"

Belle shook her head and stepped in further looking around curiously. Rumple watched her for a moment, then said, "You can stay, but don't touch anything."

Nodding, Belle moved toward the center of the room, peering over to view something in a jar. It moved, and she jumped back with a shriek. She chanced a look at Rumple, who bit back a grin, and turned to work on something on a work bench.

Stepping away from the strange creature, Belle walked around the room, observing everything closely.

The room was large, but crowded. There were shelves that lined the walls full of books that looked old, magical, and dangerous. Shelves that held no books were full of vials, some empty and some not, and there were papers, strange ingredients, and _things_ scattered all over the bench, table, and floors. In the corner sat his spinning wheel, and Belle felt a pang as she remembered nights sitting by the wheel with her husband and son. That had been a happy, simpler time, but nothing was simple anymore.

She walked over to the wheel, careful not to trip on any of the miscellaneous items that were everywhere. She sat at the wheel and gently ran her hands over the spokes, remembering.

After a moment, Rumplestiltskin appeared behind her and he brushed his fingertips down her arm. "Did you, um, need something?"

She turned and looked at him curiously, then realized that he probably was working. She felt bad for disturbing him and apologized instantly. Rumple's eyes widened, and he was quick to reassure her of the contrary.

"No, my dear," Rumple said, "You're anything but a disturbance." He rocked on his heels a moment, then said, "What have you been doing?

Standing, Belle shrugged. "Not much, today," she said as she brushed away invisible wrinkles from her blue dress. "I was just wandering around. I'm not as familiar with the place as I'd like to be so I've been trying to learn my way around." She smiled sheepishly, "I found you on accident."

"I'm glad you found me," Rumple said with a shy, boyish smile. Belle blushed.

"Me too."

They lapsed into an awkward silence, and Belle rubbed at her arms, unsure of what else to do. After a moment Rumple cleared his throat and spoke again. "Are we still at odds?"

Belle blinked at him and opened her mouth to speak. Then she shut her mouth. Were they? Things were better, but were they at odds? She didn't want to be, she realized. She was tired of all the anger and hurt that divided them. She wanted to work her way back to him, and she wanted him to try the same for her.

"I don't know," she said at length, settling for the truth. She saw the hurt flash across Rumple's face and reached out to take his hand. "I don't want to be."

"You've only just been able to stand being in the same room as me," Rumple stated, and the sorrow in his voice left her heart aching.

"I know," Belle agreed. "But maybe we could…try?"

Rumplestiltskin glanced back at her with a raised brow. "Try?"

She nodded, not sure where this was coming from. "Maybe we could have dinner tonight? Try to work our way toward…..not being at odds." She squeezed his hand and added, "I haven't cooked for you in….a while. Do you even eat?" She asked, moving her hand over his flat stomach. "Or do you just stay in here all the time because you think I won't want to see you?"

He lifted his hand and slowly rested it over hers. "I eat sometimes," he said as he glanced down at their hands on his stomach. "When I remember. The magic makes it easy to ignore things like that."

"Is it wise to use magic like that?" She asked, looking away shyly, "I'm afraid I don't know much about your magic or how it works. I don't know anything about you anymore, really."

"You didn't want to," he whispered. She blinked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

He nodded. "You may do whatever you wish, Belle. You know that."

She stood silently for a moment, then nodded resolutely. "I want to have dinner with my husband tonight," she whispered, fighting back her tears. "Will you join me?"

"Yes," he breathed, and it was the closest they'd been in months. Belle felt a longing to kiss him, but she pushed it aside. Romance would come in time, but for now she was still hurt. She was still angry. But she wanted to work past it.

She wanted her family back.

"I'll see you tonight," she whispered, withdrawing her hand and slipping out of the room. She felt Rumplestiltskin's eyes on her the entire time, and she shivered in something akin to excitement. She had a meal to plan.

~000~

Despite her resolution to not wear the fine gowns in the wardrobe, Belle found herself standing before it, pondering on whether or not to wear a new gown for that evening. It was a major thing to be having dinner with her husband. It seemed so insignificant because they'd done it together every night for nearly fifteen years before, but now it meant something significant. This wasn't about eating a fine dinner prepared in a magical kitchen. This was about starting anew. This was about reaching a point of forgiveness and forgiving. They desperately needed this, and part of that meant not rejecting the things that Rumplestiltskin deemed important.

So she stood in front of the wardrobe, trying to figure out whether to stand on the principles she'd established in her anger, or if she should allow herself to enjoy dressing in something other than her old, dirty cleaning dress. She shut her eyes and reached her hand in, pulling out a simple burgundy dress. She held it up to her, and after another moment of debate, turned and threw it onto the bed and stripped out of her blue dress. She put the other one on, glad it didn't require assistance as she knew some dresses did, then pulled her hair into a twist at the nape of her neck.

She practically skipped to the kitchen where she made a simple stew for dinner. She was too nervous to do anything more complex, but decided it was not a big deal. Her husband apparently didn't even eat regularly anymore. She almost envied him, glancing down at her stomach. She didn't eat much either, but the improved variety of food had caused her to gain a little weight. It wasn't anything she was too concerned with, but it was noticeable, and she wondered idly what Rumple would think. Would he even notice?

She pushed that thought aside, muttering a small curse under her breath. She was still angry. This wasn't an issue that could be fixed over one simple dinner and a few fluttering thoughts. It was something much more, but this dinner was a first step in the right direction.

At seven o'clock dinner was ready, and Rumplestiltskin appeared in the great hall in a yellow silk shirt, brown vest, and his now signature leather pants. Belle allowed herself a moment to appreciate him as she brought the tray to the table, then chided herself. The point of this dinner was to try to learn about her husband, not to admire his improved wardrobe, though she had to admit she was curious as to why he'd chosen the attire he donned.

She placed the tray on the table and offered him a bowl of stew. He took it and sniffed appreciatively. "It smells wonderful," he offered, "I can't remember the last time I've had something cooked."

Belle's gaze shot up and Rumplestiltskin winced, realizing his error. "I didn't mean-"

Belle held up her hand and put her best smile on. "It's all right," she said softly, "Let's just eat."

With the exception of complimenting the meal, Rumple remained silent while they ate. Belle alternated between taking small bites of stew and staring at the man across from her, wishing she could summon enough courage to ask her husband everything she wanted to know, everything that was still sour between them, but the words refused to come. Finally Rumplestiltskin looked up.

"You look pretty," he said softly, giving her an appreciative smile. Belle glanced down curiously at her dress, having momentarily forgotten that she'd dressed up for the occasion.

"Thank you," she beamed. "You look...good in leather."

It was his turn to glance at himself. "You think so?" He asked skeptically. "I feel a bit foolish, really."

"Then why wear it?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "To look the part. I have a reputation to maintain, as well as to develop. No one will respect a Dark One who doesn't dress like he knows what he's about. I'm a showman."

"Why?"

Rumplestiltskin blinked. "Why what?"

"Why are you a showman? Why not just make deals, or whatever it is you do."

Rumplestiltskin sighed. "The Dark One has a long history of being...as impressive as he is terrifying. The Dark One before me was more...subdued; he slithered about like a serpent. I want to be different. I want to stand out."

"You want to impress people," Belle said, pushing her bowl away from her. "You don't want them to remember Rumplestiltskin. You want to make a spectacle of yourself so they don't remember the man who sacrificed everything he was for his son."

"There wasn't much to Rumplestiltskin."

"There was more than enough to Rumplestiltskin," Belle countered, "Rumplestiltskin has always been enough."

Rumple said nothing, but the look on his face said what his words couldn't. Belle stretched across the table to grasp Rumple's hand, and they shared smile. After several moments, Rumple sat back.

"I have to show you something," he said as he stood. "If you'll come with me."

Belle nodded, her curiosity growing by the moment. She stood and followed Rumplestiltskin out of the great hall. They walked for a few minutes, and Belle was certain she'd never been in this part of the castle. Rumplestiltskin walked as if he'd grown up here, the long halls and stairways not making him falter once. Finally they came to one last staircase and Rumplestiltskin turned to face Belle.

"I've been working on this since I became the Dark One," he said, "It was meant for all of us….but I want to give it to you now. Just," he paused and looked away, "Please promise me you'll use it."

"I promise," she said, and though she feared she may regret making such a promise without knowing what he had planned, she found she wanted to trust him. He'd given her reason to, with sparring the life of the thief called Robin Hood, and with trying to open up to her at dinner. The least she could do in return was trust him this once.

Taking her hand, an unexpected gesture on his part, he led her up the stairs, smiling in relief when he heard her gasp.

"I've never seen this many books in my life," she whispered as she turned around the circular room, staring in awe at the floor-to-ceiling shelves that were currently only half-filled.

"I'm not done," he said softly, "I've been collecting. Trading, buying. Many of my smaller deals are for books for you."

"Rumple, I can't-"

"You promised," he reminded her quickly and she realized that he probably thought she meant to reject his gift.

"No," she said, squeezing his hand, "I mean, I can't believe you did this. This is incredible."

"It's always been my dream to give you a library," he said. "And I know you haven't had a new book in a while. I thought perhaps, since we're…trying, it might be the best opportunity to give it to you."

"Thank you," she whispered as tears slipped down her cheeks. Rumple quickly reached up to brush them away.

"Why tears, dearest?"

She shook her head. "I'm just-I… thank you," she whispered. "This means so much to me."

"I would do anything for you," he said softly. "Please tell me you know that."

She nodded, slowly meeting his eyes. "Yes."

He sighed, relieved. "Good."

They stood there for a long moment watching each other, then Rumplestiltskin moved away. "I have a deal I must attend to," he said softly, "I'll leave you to the conundrum of which book to choose first."

Belle couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "Will you find me when you return?"

"If I'm not back too late, and if you wish it, then yes."

She seemed appeased. "Maybe you can tell me more about your deals."

"If you would like."

She paused. "I would."

He smiled softly, then was gone. Belle turned to the shelves of books and clapped her hands together in glee. She had quite the conundrum indeed, she thought. But it wasn't about the books. She could feel herself falling in love with her husband all over again and as hard and as fast as she had the first time. But there was still so much to work out between them. Walking over to the nearest shelf, Belle began to browse the titles. Perhaps the difficult choice of choosing a first book could distract her from her heart and its sudden, overwhelming longing for Rumplestiltskin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to apologize for the delay. I've been at a conference for the past three days (and not a fun con. A work con. Boo!) And I thought we were going to get home around 5 EST. We didn't get home until 7. (How does a trip that's suppose to only take 3.5 hours end up taking 5.5?!) And then I had some other things I had to do and by the time I got home it was midnight.
> 
> Better late than never, I suppose.
> 
> I will also go ahead and give a warning now: I am moving early next week, and things are going to be a bit hectic with closing, moving, and the beginning stages of redecorating/renovating. So, while I totally plan to keep up the posting schedule, if things start getting delayed by a day or so, that's why. I don't think I'll have any problems getting chapters posted, but I'm letting you know just in case.
> 
> I'm glad you all liked the previous chapter! I will be honest, it was quite different than what I had originally written. I made a LOT of last minute changes, and I'm so pleased to know they were so well received! Thank you!
> 
> Chapter 36 should be up Friday, August 1st! (How is it already August!?)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters, scenes and dialogue that are familiar belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	36. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle wondered if her story with Rumplestiltskin would ever find a happy end. She hoped it would. But there was a long way to go before they could be happy again, and Belle didn't even know where to start the process.

Chapter 36: Discoveries

Rumplestiltskin returned to find Belle sitting in the middle of the library with a barricade of books surrounding her. Raising an eyebrow, he cleared his throat and caused Belle to jump and glance up at him. He said nothing, instead simply staring at her in amusement. Belle blushed and glanced around her sheepishly.

"I couldn't pick."

"So I gathered."

She ducked her head, feeling silly, then stood and carefully stepped over the pile of books to reach her husband. They kept a respectable distance, still hesitant even after the progress they'd made.

"Did your deal go well?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "As well as they usually do."

"How do they usually go?" She asked.

Rumplestiltskin moved over to the window seat and sank down heavily. "Someone wants to make a deal, claim they'll do anything, and agree to my terms. Then when the time comes to collect, they claim I've taken advantage of them." He huffed in annoyance, "It's not my problem they don't read the damn contract I have them sign."

"You make people sign contracts?" She asked, face brightening with interest. Rumplestiltskin gave her a dry look.

"Out of all that, _that's_ the part you fixate on?"

Belle flushed, "I just…find it interesting. It's what Papa used to do, remember?"

Rumple did remember. It was part of the inspiration behind his own decision to include a written agreement in his deals. Maurice had helped many people in his time, and a small part of Rumplestiltskin wanted to do the same. He had laws of magic to abide by however, and he couldn't guarantee the other person always got the better end of the deal.

"Do they read the contract? When you give it to them?"

Laughing, Rumplestiltskin slumped down in the seat further. "You'd think they would, my clever wife. But no. I'm dealing with…desperate souls," he said, reflecting on what Zoso had said to him that fateful night. "They don't care about the price. They want the solution. They make deals they don't understand."

"Sounds like it's an endless, vicious cycle," Belle mumbled, "Does everyone you deal with end up unhappy?"

"Not… everyone," Rumplestiltskin admitted slowly, "But outside these walls, I'm not exactly known for my generosity."

"But you were like them once," Belle argued, "Desperate. Surely you could be a little generous."

A harsh reply was on the tip of his tongue, but Rumple held back. Belle was right, and there was no need to lash out at her when she was only reminding him of the path that had led them here. He'd been desperate, and he _could_ be generous. But he had no intentions of spending the rest of his life as a magical deal-maker. He'd taken the powers to save his son, and he'd lost sight of himself along the way. Once Baelfire was in his arms once more, he'd abandon magic for good. This was a means to an end, and he couldn't help it if others had to endure a little inconvenience for him to reach his goal.

"It's not that simple, Belle," he sighed at last. "These people want me to change their lives. They want me to alter their entire existence, and I'm supposed to just take a few coins or a pat on the back? All magic comes with a price," he said pointedly, "And I - we - have paid the greatest price of all for it. I'm only making sure the deeds I do to help are paid for. Even if I wanted to, I can't do this for nothing. Magic doesn't work that way."

"So everything you do costs you?"

"Yes."

Belle frowned, "Then we shouldn't waste it. Trivial things can be done without magic. I'll heat my own water from now on. And light the fire. I don't want you to pay for silly things."

"Ensuring my wife is well cared for is hardly silly," Rumple replied tersely. "And at any rate, heating water is such a trivial thing. It hardly costs anything." Stretching out his hand, Rumple beckoned Belle to him. "Please let me give you a good life while we're here," he begged, "I've messed up so much, but as I try to fix it, let me at least ensure you're taken care of."

He could see her internally debating his offer. He knew she was wary – she had every right to be – but he couldn't be with her at all times to make certain she was all right. He was on a mission, and he needed the comfort of knowing Belle was okay.

"All right," she nodded at length. "Warm water and a fire in the hearth." She furrowed her brows and lightly tapped him on the nose, "But that's all."

It was as good an acceptance as he could hope for, so he took it. Standing, he smiled softly at her, letting his fingers intertwine with hers. "I have things to do," he said softly, "And I'm sure you'd like to decide on a book."

Belle nodded and stepped aside, feeling a shiver of longing as his hand slipped from hers. She wanted to ask him to stay, but remained silent. When he was gone, she sank to her knees and picked up a book, flipping through it idly. It was a happy tale, she noticed when she accidentally flipped to the end and read the last paragraph. That decided it for her, and she moved to the chaise with the book in hand. She needed a happy tale. Her own seemed destined to bring nothing but pain and sorrow, and Belle wondered if her story with Rumplestiltskin would ever find a happy end. She hoped it would, but she pushed that thought aside. There was a long way to go before they could be happy again, and Belle didn't even know where to start the process.

~000~

Rumplestiltskin entered his workroom with a heavy sigh. He and Belle were on speaking terms again, for which he was grateful, but something in him couldn't help but anticipate the moment things fell apart again. Thinking back through the course of their lives together, Rumple could hardly think of a moment of a moment of happiness that wasn't almost immediately overturned by some hardship. They'd been teased and shunned by the village once their betrothal had been revealed. Their marriage had been short lived before he'd been swept off to war. News of his impending fatherhood was shattered by a hammer to the leg.

His power had been corrupted by the death of Maurice, the loss of Bae, and his falling out with Belle. Nothing had turned out right, and now that things seemed to be getting to a place of tolerance between them, he feared he was just going to mess up again.

Pulling out the parchment from his pocket, Rumplestiltskin sighed. Belle would never be able to forgive him for this, he knew, but it was the only way to get to Bae. He could hear her now, declaring passionately that one life did not warrant sacrificing for another, even if the life being saved was her son.

But he wouldn't be ruining one life if he went through with his plan. Multiple lives would be affected. He'd had several visions, something he wished more than anything to cease, and they all pointed to the same solution. The name on the parchment was his only guaranteed way of reaching the land without magic, and yet he couldn't bring himself to be excited. Because he knew that, once again, he was taking a risk. Would his son forgive him for his method of finding him? Of course not. He could barely stand the thought of it himself. But what choice did he have?

Sitting down heavily on the work bench, Rumple lowered his head onto the table and shut his eyes. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept in some time, and it seemed that the magic he was burning to keep himself awake and alert was running dry. He would have to sleep soon, he knew. He hoped that when he finally did give into the need, Belle would be next to him. He was so tired of sleeping alone.

With a resigned sigh, Rumple sat back up, his body feeling heavy. He moved to one of the bookshelves where his journals were stored and pulled out one of the later ones. He flipped through until he found what he was looking for. He glanced at the parchment in his hand, then back at the page. Sure enough, the names matched, and in his scribbled handwriting was the name…

_Regina ?_

There were arrows out from her name, one pointing to the name Snow and the other to Cora.

Ah, Rumple thought. He had vague memories of a young woman being trained by his predecessor, but it seemed the memories had been suppressed somewhat deeply. He hadn't been able to reveal anything else when he'd been writing down all the memories of the Dark One, and now that he recognized this one name, he was beginning to understand why. He could feel a sensation of hurt and betrayal, and assumed that things had not ended well between master and student. It seemed the student, Cora, had gone on to have a daughter: the recently widowed Queen Regina, whose step-daughter was the widely-loved Princess Snow White. She's been quite _unhappily_ married too, if the rumors his client had told him were anything to go by.

Rumple moved over to a mirror in the corner of the room. In his experiments, he'd discovered the power of mirrors and their ability to see into other places. He'd never dared use the ability before, believing his wife's privacy was of the utmost importance and not thinking anyone else worthy of his notice. He waved his hand, activating the mirror, and watched as the mirror began to ripple like waves. When it cleared, there was a vision of a woman in all white, her dark hair long and free falling about her waist. She was lovely, perhaps a bit younger than Belle.

Whereas Belle's eyes were warm and welcoming, Regina's eyes were cold, dark, and full of an anger Rumple knew too well. She was bitter and angry at the world for the hand she'd been dealt, it seemed. But despite that anger, the woman in the mirror was smiling viciously, and Rumple watched with shock and awe as she banished a man – apparently her lover – into a mirror. He couldn't hear them speak, but he could sense the darkness that radiated off her in waves.

Covering the mirror, Rumple sank down to the floor. He was going to do this. He'd found someone whose anger and bitterness reached far deeper than his own, and he was going to use it. Belle would never forgive him, but that was irrelevant at this point. He was a desperate soul, but so was this Regina. He could see it in her eyes just as plainly as he could see the wickedness.

And he was going make the absolute best of it.

~000~

Belle's stomach growled and brought her out of her distraction. She glanced up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She'd been reading for several hours and only now realized that it was nearing dawn. Had she really read most of the night?

Standing, she stretched and decided to find Rumplestiltskin and see if he would like to join her for breakfast. Dinner had gone better than she had expected, and it gave her hope that maybe they could continue taking these small steps towards reconciliation.

Belle marked her place and left her library to search for Rumplestiltskin. She knew where his work room was, but she wasn't entirely sure where she was in relation to the library. She shrugged, figuring she'd find him before long and walked on. She rounded a corner and came to a hallway she wasn't familiar with. With a shrug she followed the path, stopping when she reached a door. It was cracked, and though Belle knew this wasn't Rumple's work room, she thought perhaps he might be inside. Pushing the door open carefully, Belle stepped inside. She had half expected to find her husband, but never had she expected what she found instead.

The room was large, bright, and filled with things. There was a bed in the corner, as fine and comfortable as Belle's own bed. There was a desk furnished with ink and quill and parchment, as well as several books. The walls were lined with shelves, filled with more books and toys and other items. In the corner opposite of the bed stood a wardrobe. There were blocks and a large ball on the floor, and a wooden sword that lay abandoned on one of the shelves. It was the most cheerful and pleasant room she'd ever seen.

It was perfect for a teenage boy.

Belle stared around her in disbelief, mouth hanging open as she took in her surroundings. Almost numbly, she stepped toward the wardrobe and pulled it open. It was full of clothing, breeches and poet shirts and a thick woolen cloak. Belle pushed them aside, not entirely surprised when she laid eyes on clothing she recognized from her old life in the village. The realization hit her and had her collapsing to the ground with a cry:

This was Bae's room.

Rumple had prepared a room for Bae. She covered her mouth with her hand and began to sob. She reached out, pulling her son's shawl from the pile of clothing. Holding it close to her, she breathed deeply, the scent of her son filled her senses and offered her a strange comfort.

"Oh, Bae," Belle whispered against the shawl, her tears soaking the fabric as she wept, her pain was as fresh as when she'd first lost him.

Looking up, Belle noticed Rumple's old staff. The etchings that marked Bae's growth were there, and Belle reached out to let her fingers brush over the crudely cut indentions.

Why had Rumple not told her about this room? Belle wiped her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her dress and laughed brokenly. She knew why. Ever since Rumple had acquired magic, they'd been at odds. She

She'd been uncertain, confused, and angry at the man Rumplestiltskin had become. But it was clear, by the care put into this room that Rumplestiltskin had not changed quite as much as she once thought. There was a darkness there. That was certain. But something in her clicked and she realized with a start that no man who valued power over his family would ever take the time and care to prepare such a room for his child.

And it wasn't just the large room and the fine toys. Rumple had kept the things from their past. This wasn't about power and magic. He wanted his son. He regretted his actions and he was _doing something_ about it.

Gripping the shawl, Belle moved to the bed and sat, reflecting over that fateful night, and it occurred to her that she'd never once asked Rumple what had been going through in his mind when it all happened. In every discussion, every fight they'd had since he became the Dark One, she'd question his decisions, but she'd never bothered to understand _why_ he was doing those things. She knew he did it all to protect Bae, but in all that time she'd never taken the time to ask him why he was protecting his son. What was he protecting him from?

In that moment, Belle understood. She understood that in many ways, she didn't understand Rumplestiltskin at all. It was a grievous error on her part, and suddenly, Belle knew exactly where the road to forgiveness began.

With understanding.

Resolute and alight with hope, Belle ran out of her son's room. She needed to find Rumplestiltskin and do something she hadn't done in a long time: listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait. But the move was successful! We've been busy organizing and getting things in order at the house. This week we are going to start tearing down wallpaper (thank God!).
> 
> Again, it'll be this way from here on out, most likely, with chapters potentially not being up until Saturday or Sunday. But I aim to still post a chapter every week.
> 
> A bit of info on the Regina and Cora situation: Cora's back story is relatively the same. However, there are two important things I want to point out:
> 
> 1\. There will be no Zelena (this was written before she was introduced and so I'm not going to include her at all.)
> 
> 2\. Cora's relationship with the Dark One still happened, but it wasn't with Rumplestiltskin specifically. He has the memories of it though.
> 
> With that being said, Regina's path to Evil Queen-hood is a little different as well, but I'm not going to say much else on that front because I don't want to give anything away.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you everyone for your support. I'm so pleased you enjoy this fic!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All familiar characters belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	37. The Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me." -Psalm 23:4

Chapter 37: The Valley

Belle ran through the hallway and down the stairs, moving blindly until she reached the great hall. Through the open curtains the dawning sun streamed in, soaking the whole room in light and warmth. At the table stood Rumplestiltskin, who was pouring himself a cup of tea. He looked up to see Belle as she stood in the doorway, and arched a brow curiously at her frantic state.

Then he noticed the shawl in her hands, and the tea cup slipped from his fingers. It shattered at his feet, tea soaking into the carpet. He stepped over the mess without comment, and moved toward Belle slowly. She met him halfway, flinging her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder.

He held her close, running his hands up and down her back soothingly. Belle pulled away then and let one hand trail down his cheek. "Rumple," she said through her tears. Rumplestiltskin moved her other hand away from him, clutching it through the shawl.

"He should be here," Rumple said softly, "He should be in that room."

"Why did you never show me?" Belle asked, staring at the shawl in their hands.

With a shrug, Rumple pulled Belle toward the couch near the hearth on the other end of the room. "I didn't know if you would want to see it," he said, "I feared it would bring you too much pain."

Belle nodded in understanding. "It did bring me pain," she admitted, "But it made me realize something, too."

"What?"

They seated themselves on the couch and Belle turned so her legs were tucked underneath her. "That I've been incredibly selfish."

"Belle-"

"No, Rumple," she interrupted, holding up her other hand to silence her husband, "I've blamed you for our loss this entire time. I've been so _angry_ , but not once have I ever taken a moment to ask you what happened. Not once have I listened to you." She lowered her hand so that both were holding his through the shawl.

"But I'm ready to listen," she finished, "As I should have a long time ago."

"I'll tell you whatever you wish to know," Rumple replied earnestly.

Belle nodded. "What happened that night?"

"To tell you that, we must go back further," Rumple said. With another encouraging nod from Belle, Rumple began.

"It all starts with my father, Malcolm. He was a con man," Rumple said with distaste, "He played everyone for a fool, but no one more than myself." Rumple chuckled bitterly, "I was a fool to have ever trusted that man."

Belle reached out to touch Rumple's arm reassuringly. "What happened?"

"I had a magic bean," Rumple said, his anger apparent, "And my father took it. He promised me a second chance for happiness. Together. We used the bean and went through a green portal."

Images flashed in Belle's mind of the portal Bae had gone through. It was beginning to make sense, but Belle waited, knowing that this tale would only get worse. But she needed to hear it from Rumple. She needed to know what had brought them to this place.

"But," Rumple said, drawing her attention back to him, "That wasn't enough for my father. He didn't want a second chance with me. He wanted freedom."

"From what?"

"From me."

Belle gasped, her hand lifting to cover her mouth. "Rumple…"

He kept going, unable to stop. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he ignored them. "I was ripped away from my father by his own desire," Rumple spat, "I realized then that I was unwanted and unloved. He saw me as a burden and nothing more."

"So when you saw the portal with Bae," Belle trailed off, knowing exactly what her husband would say.

"I was reminded of the last time I went through a portal with the intent of a second chance."

'You were afraid," Belle supplied.

Rumple nodded, "I was petrified. I realized- too late - I was turning into my father. I was abandoning my so the way Malcolm abandoned me."

Belle reached up slowly and cupped Rumple's face in her hands. "But that isn't the case."

"You thought it was," Rumple accused, though there was no malice in his voice. Belle looked away in shame. She had blamed him for so long, never once taking a moment to consider why he had been reluctant to go through the portal. If Rumple was known for one thing, it was keeping his word. Had Bae found another way, Belle believed Rumple would have followed through on his promise.

"I did. Can you ever forgive me?"

"You've done nothing to warrant forgiveness," Rumple declared with a shake of his head, "It is I who should fall at your feet and beg."

Belle shook her head. "We've both made mistakes. We both need forgiveness."

Rumple nodded silently, his anguish apparent in his face. It was clear he'd lived with this guilt for too long. And she had done nothing to ease that pain. If anything, Belle thought, she'd only added to it. No more, she decided. This ended now.

Belle let her hands fall to rest in his lap where the shawl lay and after a moment Rumplestiltskin began to trace his fingers over hers.

"Why did you not tell me this sooner?" Belle asked softly. Rumple shrugged once more.

"I didn't think you cared."

"I'm so sorry, Rumple," she repeated, "I should never have let you bear this burden, this guilt, alone."

Rumple sighed, then looked up to meet Belle's eyes. "Oh, Belle," he whispered, "For as long as I can recall, I've been walking through a valley. Filled with nothing but shadows and darkness and death. I'm surrounded by it. It's followed me for so long."

He shifted forward, and took her face between his hands. "But then you came into my life, and your light began to chase away the darkness. I was no longer alone."

Tears slid down Belle's cheeks, falling over Rumple's fingers as he held her. She breathed his name, and Rumple continued.

"But then….I saw the coldness in your eyes that night. You were so angry. I was convinced you would leave me. Part of me hoped you would, if only so I could stop _waiting_ for it to happen. No one else wanted me, why should you?"

"I do want you, Rumple," Belle cried, "Please believe that."

Rumple laughed, his own tears falling onto Bae's shawl. "Without you I am nothing. I need you Belle. I cannot bear this burden alone anymore. All this power, and yet I am so utterly _weak_ ," he said bitterly, "So weak. But you make me strong, Belle. I can do anything, if only you'll promise to walk this path with me. Please don't leave me in the darkness anymore."

He bent over, his head resting on her lap as he wept. Belle could barely comfort him, her own body wracked with grievous sobs. She ran her hand through his hair, the motion soothing to both of them. Her husband was so broken, so sorrowful, and she'd had no idea of the depth of his pain. His entire life had been nothing but despair, and when he'd needed her the most, when he'd been so consumed by darkness and grief, she'd turned her back on him and only focused on her own pain.

It may have been his doing: he may have brought them to this valley, but she would not leave them here. _They_ would get out, whatever it took. Belle was certain of that now, and she forced herself to calm down. Her husband needed her, and she'd been selfish for long enough. Bending over, she pressed a kiss to Rumple's head and whispered his name. He lifted his gaze to her when she sat back, and she offered him her best smile.

"I go where you go," she whispered, "I will walk with you, until I can walk no longer."

"And then I'll carry you," he swore, and she believed him.

"Only if you let me carry you as well," she countered and he knew there was no room to argue. He did not want to. They'd been at odds for so long, and this newfound, fragile peace they'd created between them was something he was not going to destroy. He was tired of destruction. He was ready to mend.

"I'll carry you and you'll carry me," he agreed in relief, "And somehow, we'll make it. We'll survive. We'll find Bae."

She nodded her head and it was settled.

"Deal."

Her choice of wording wasn't lost on him and he let a soft, bitter laugh escape him. "I won't stop until I've succeeded."

She nodded. "And I'll help. I want our son back," she said and Rumplestiltskin reached for her hand, desiring to comfort her. He had hoped to prolong the inevitable discussion of how they were going to find their son, but Belle had promised to go where he did. This would be a test to see if she were true to her word.

"About that," Rumplestiltskin whispered, knowing if he didn't confess it all now, he'd lose the desperate courage that had fueled his earlier confession and not tell her. But Belle needed – deserved to know. She wasn't going to like it, but their options were….nonexistent. He only hoped she would understand. And someone, despite the horrid nature of what he was to do, he knew she would.

"What?" Belle asked.

Taking a breath, Rumple explained everything. He told her about his search for a way to the other world and about the curse he'd found. He told her how it was activated – and quickly explained that he would _not_ be the one to cast it. He told her about the memories he'd explored, and the woman he'd learned of who seemed to be the key to it all.

When he was finished, all Belle did was sigh. She sat for a long while, playing with the edge of Bae's shawl. Her brow was creased in concentration, and Rumple knew she was allowing everything he'd told her sink in. It was a lot to hear, to understand, and certainly a lot to accept. But Rumple's faith in Belle didn't waver.

Eventually, she lifted her eyes to him. "Is there _really_ no other way?"

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "No way that I have found. Though I admit once I discovered the curse, I began focusing solely on it. This _Regina_ may be our only chance. I have to try."

Belle reached out and squeezed his hand, resigning herself to the fact. "I don't like this," she whispered at last, her voice weak. "It isn't right. Why should others suffer because of what we did?"

"It's not ideal," Rumple admitted, "But it's our only chance."

Belle sighed once more. "It's wrong. It's so horribly wrong." She blinked, then looked at Rumple hesitantly, "But, Bae." She faltered, then added, "If there's truly no other way, then….I…."

"You don't have to like it," Rumple whispered gently, "I don't expect you to condone my actions in this." He lifted his hand to play with her hair. "You didn't want me to take the dagger in the first place, but I did. And look where it got us. Just as that was my doing, so this will be too. If you don't want to be a part of it, I won't hold that against you. But I don't know what else to do, Belle."

Belle looked down, deep in thought. After a moment, she glanced at her husband and her eyes, once dark with despair, were suddenly alight with fire. "You're not going to cast it."

_"What?_ "

Belle shook her head. "You're not going to cast it because I'm going to find another way."

Rumple stared at her disbelievingly and Belle explained, "You said you stopped looking once you found the curse. Maybe there are other, unknown ways. I don't know anything about magic, but I know how to read. Maybe I can do research while you…work. If there's another way, surely it's in one of your books."

"I think that would be wonderful," Rumplestiltskin said, amazed. And it was. He could focus on the task of orchestrating this curse, but Belle could look for alternate routes. If she found one, then they would use it. If not, they still had the curse. Regardless, they were going to find their son. And they were going to do it together.

"Then it's settled," she said with a smile. "I'll find another way."

He believed she would.

"You never cease to amaze me, sweetheart."

Belle smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long while. There was still pain between them, and it would take more than one tear-filled conversation to fix everything that had happened. Their wounds ran deep, and would need time to heal. But Belle was hopeful. She was no longer isolated and angry. She was filled with understanding, and now looked upon her husband in a new light. He had suffered so much, and yet had always been so kind. He'd treated her with such love, it was hard to believe he had lacked it as a boy.

But then the power of the Dark One had come along, and changed him. But even through the murder of her father's killers, the overzealous desire to protect Bae, and the madness that had consumed him, Belle still saw the same gentle soul that had bashfully offered her tokens of affection and a lifetime of love. Despite the changes, the years, and the heartache, her husband sat before her, and Belle felt her love for Rumplestiltskin manifest and consume her.

_Dark and light_ , she thought, _he's mine and I love all of him._

She caught his face in her hands, surprising him by the sudden action. He looked at her with wild eyes, curious as to what she was going to do. She hardly knew herself; only knew there was an overwhelming desire to kiss him, and she gave into the urge, pulling his head down so that her lips could press hard against his.

She felt him gasp against her, then she was swept up in his arms, being kissed soundly. A warmth surrounded her, and she pulled back slightly so that she could whisper her love to him. Opening her eyes, she went to speak, but cried out in surprise instead.

Opening his own eyes, Rumple looked at her dazed. "What's happening?" He asked and Belle struggled in his arms to move away from him. His face was no longer the same gold-green that distinguished him as the Dark One. His skin was tanned - normal, like her own. After a moment, Rumple groaned and shook his head, the odd color returning and restoring him to his usual state.

"What was that?" Belle asked.

Rumple rubbed his temples and glanced up at her. "I've no idea. I feel so strange. As if my magic was being sucked from me."

Belle leaned forward to rub his back. "Are you going to be all right?"

Rumple nodded. "Yes, I think so. Though I'm a little dizzy."

"I don't understand," Belle said, "I merely kissed you. You were fine until that moment, weren't you?"

"Yes," Rumple said, "I was-"

He paused, his eyes shooting up to meet Belle's. "Wait here."

He disappeared in a puff of smoke, only to reappear a few moments later with a book in his hand. He flipped through it, and Belle recognized the book as one of the journals Rumple had created. He stopped at a page near the back and read for a moment. Then he glanced at Belle again.

"You kissed me," Rumple said plainly. Belle nodded.

"Yes, and you started to act stra-"

She was cut off by Rumple throwing the book down and pulling her into his arms. He hugged her so tightly it was almost painful, and Belle felt him shake with relieved laughter as he spun her around joyously.

Getting dizzy, Belle pushed at him and he stopped, gently setting her back on the floor. The room spun; the only thing that seemed stable was Rumple, so she focused on him. When she no longer felt she may stumble over she said, "Care to share the discovery?"

He still held her, hands gripping her tightly about the waist. The grin on his face was wide and stupid and he looked like he may go mad with happiness.

"You love me," he breathed and Belle tilted her head in confusion.

"What? Of course I do," she protested but he cut her off, hugging her to his chest again as he began to cry. "You don't understand," he whispered, his lips against her hair, "There are only two ways to break the curse of the Dark One. The dagger, as you know, and something called True Love's Kiss."

Belle's eyes widened and she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "Is that what that was?" He nodded, moving her so she stood at arm's length from him.

"Yes, it was," he said. "Oh, Belle. Thank you!" He hugged her to him again, leaving Belle to try to wrap her mind around what was happening. Wasn't breaking his curse a _bad_ thing?

"I don't understand," she finally admitted. "Isn't this bad? Knowing my kiss could break your curse and then all this would be for nothing?"

He shook his head wildly. "You don't understand," he said with a flourishing wave of his hand, "Belle, _you love me_." He sighed and looked at her as if he were the happiest man in the world. Perhaps he was. "True Love is the most powerful magic there is, Belle. It's stronger than anything. And you've given it to me." His smile softened to a solemn expression.

"I'd long since given up hope that you could ever love me again."

Belle's mouth fell open, the shock of his words hitting her hard. "Oh, Rumple," she cried, reaching for him frantically. "I _never_ stopped. I was angry, yes. Furious. But I never stopped loving you."

He let out a broken and weary sob and took her into his arms. She went willingly, clutching at him in desperation.

"But you _accept_ me," he insisted, "Love is many things, Belle, one of them being acceptance. You finally accept me. All of me."

Pulling away, Belle regarded him carefully. She thought back to when he'd first become the Dark One, and how she'd fought him at every turn. It was true she didn't relish his being a powerful sorcerer, but instead of resenting him his magic, she now considered it a part of him. Where once she would have given anything to see her husband restored to the man she was, now she loved him as he appeared before her. Perhaps he was right. She had always loved him, but it was only now that she finally _knew_ him that she fully felt the extent of her love.

She brushed her fingers over his face, the texture of his skin strange but pleasant. "I do," she agreed with a beaming smile. "I love you, Rumplestiltskin."

"Oh, Belle," he whispered, "I love you. I love you more than I can possibly say. I love you. _I love you_."

Belle lifted her head to kiss him again, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "But we're going to have to figure out a way to keep you from breaking my curse." He smirked at her, leaning close to whisper in her ear, "Because I fully intend to start kissing you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter. This was the very first scene I thought of when the idea for The Valley came to mind. It's my favorite chapter. (We're not done, don't worry. I just wanted to share how much this chapter means to me.)
> 
> The inspiration for the name of this chapter, and the name of the story as a whole came from two sources: The first came from the Album "The Valley" by Eisley. I was listening to this album (and specifically the title song "The Valley") when I first had this idea. The second inspiration came from Psalms 23, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me." I envision Rumple as a lost soul, walking through a valley of darkness, but when Belle enters his life, she brings the light he needs to no longer fear the evil that surrounds him. So, that's where the title of the story came from.
> 
> I highly recommend listening to "The Valley." The song doesn't really fit the story, but whenever I have writer's block, I put that album on repeat and usually it helps.
> 
> We still have a ways to go. I just finished writing chapter 45 and am currently working on 46. I think I can reach the end by 50. But we'll see.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for your kind words. I don't reply, but I do read every single review and they never fail to make my day better. So thank you for sticking with me through this journey. I am truly grateful.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	38. Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For now, let me take care of you."

Chapter 38: Caretaker

Belle entered the workroom carrying a tea tray piled high with breakfast. She hummed as she walked, and when Rumple looked up at the sound they greeted each other with small smiles. Rumple stood from where he was working on the curse and met Belle at the large workbench that was covered with books, spells, and other assortments. Rumple cleared a space for her then took the tray and set it on the table.

"Hey," he greeted in a soft voice as Belle handed him a cup of tea.

"Hi," she said back as she poured her own tea. She glanced at him shyly, cheeks flushing as she caught him studying her closely. She was wearing one of the dresses from the wardrobe: a light purple one that fell to her shins. On her feet were lace-up boots that Rumple recognized as his own. With a careful nudge he teased, "Been raiding my closet, hmm?"

Belle glanced down at the shoes, then lifted her foot for them both to examine. "I like them," she said with a shrug. "I can see the appeal of wearing them. They make me feel…powerful."

Rumplestiltskin chuckled, "If it makes you happy, you may borrow my clothing whenever you wish."

"Even your leather pants?" Belle asked.

Rumple's cheeks darkened at the thought of his wife in leather, and he lifted his teacup to his lips to avoid answering.

Giggling, Belle put her tea down and reached for a piece of toast. She'd brought an assortment of jams, and she grabbed the closest one, slathering her bread with the sweet confection. "I was thinking I'd start research today," she said before biting into her breakfast.

Rumple picked up a strawberry from the tray and fiddled with it thoughtfully. Smiling at that, Rumple turned and pointed with the strawberry over to a bookshelf on the other end of the room. "I'd start with those, then," Rumple said, watching out of the corner of his eye as Belle studied the shelf. He'd missed this camaraderie. He'd missed her.

"What's in those?" Belle asked curiously.

"Almost anything you might imagine," Rumple explained, "I'll show you the ones to read first. Some are about the history of magic, some are about different types of spells and curses." Rumple bit into the strawberry then added, "I imagine you'll be spending most of your time reading spell descriptions. It'll be tedious. I can assure you."

"I don't mind," Belle said and Rumple gave her a loving look.

"We'll ease you into those," he said, "I don't doubt your ability, but magic can be…unpredictable. I don't want you getting in over your head at the very beginning."

Belle nodded in understanding. "That makes sense," she agreed, "I'd hate to miss something because I didn't understand what I was reading."

He hummed in agreement, and they went back to eating their food. A few minutes later, Belle spoke up again. "I'd also like to read what you wrote," she said, causing Rumple to look at her with a raised brow.

"Why?"

"Well, you said when you first gained the curse that there were voices - memories and thoughts that weren't your own and you wrote them down. I think it might help if I read what you wrote as well. Maybe there's something there that you wouldn't notice because it's so engrained within you already."

"You may have a point, my clever wife," Rumple said as he finished his cup of tea. He stepped over to a separate shelf and reached up, standing on his tip toes, to grasp a book sitting on a high shelf. He tucked it in the crook of his arm and grabbed three more. Moving back to the table, Rumple placed the tomes in front of Belle. She stared wide eyed at them, turning her head to then stare at Rumple in amazement. The books were thick, much larger than any she'd ever read. And there were four of them. How could one person manage to remember so much?

"You wrote _all_ this?" She asked.

Rumple nodded. "The Dark One's been around for a while. And until me, there was no written account of him, outside ill-informed legends."

"It must be such a burden," Belle said softly, tracing the cover of the top book, "To have so many memories that aren't your own."

Again, Rumple shrugged. "Writing them all down helped considerably," he said, "Before, it felt like I was going mad. So many thoughts trying to take precedence. At any moment I was remembering a hundred things like names, faces, and events."

"No wonder you worked so tirelessly to write it all down," she whispered, "Better tucked away in here than in your head." She reached up and ran her hand through his curls. He turned his head enough to press a kiss to her palm, eyes closing in contentment. "Were any of the thoughts pleasant?"

Rumple couldn't help the dark laugh that escaped him. Belle flinched back at his reaction, and Rumple caught himself. "No, dearest," he said with a sigh, "There isn't much pleasantness to be had when you're the Dark One."

"Hopefully that's not _entirely_ true."

Rumple cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "Indeed not."

Belle smiled then slipped from his grasp to begin tidying up the mess left from breakfast. With a wave of his hand, Rumple swept it all away in a puff of magic, leaving Belle's hands hovering in midair, where she'd been clutching the tea pot.

Turning, Belle whacked her husband on the arm. "Stop that," she chided, "Or I won't have anything to keep me busy."

"You'll be busy enough with your research, dear," he said as he picked up the parchment that contained the list of ingredients needed to begin building the curse. "And at any rate, you're my wife, not my caretaker."

"If I don't take care of you, who will?" She asked idly as she picked up the topmost book from the pile and began to flip through it.

"No one, I dare say."

Belle looked up, pained. "Then let me take care of you," she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He glanced down to where their fingers were now entwined, and he sighed gently.

"Thank you."

That seemed to appease her, and she brought his hand up to her lips before placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. "Thank you," she said as she let his hand go. Turning, she grabbed the stack of books, but the weight of them caused her to stumble slightly and to move to a smaller table. She sat down and opened the top book. After a moment, she frowned, then turned back to Rumple who was watching her from his place at the workbench.

"Are they in chronological order?"

Rumple stood and approached the table. He lifted each book, skimmed the first page and finally handed her the one on the bottom. "Start here," he instructed, "Then this one." He stacked the books in the correct order before pressing a quick kiss to Belle's head and leaving her to read.

She dove into her work, studiously reading each page. Rumple watched her for a long while, worried at what her reaction might be to some of the things he had recounted. There were so many dark tales. The history of the Dark One was not a pleasant or easy read, but Belle trudged along. Lost in watching his wife, Rumple studied her movements to gauge her response. He heard the occasional gasp, saw the occasional shudder. Belle was learning of all the horrors that had haunted Rumplestiltskin, and it occurred to Rumple – too late, he noted – that perhaps allowing Belle to become privy to such dark things was not the wisest. He'd only just gotten her back; he didn't want to drive her away again.

But then she glanced back at him and offered him a smile. Her eyes were dark, almost haunted by what she was reading, and Rumple could tell she was battling tears. She studied him a moment, then turned back to her reading, and it was only then that she was checking on his just as he was checking on her. It was incredible, unfathomable to Rumplestiltskin that he had someone like Belle, who loved him in spite of all his mistakes. He knew rationally that what she was reading about currently had not been him, but he still embodied the spirit of the man - creature – who had done those things. Yet Belle still looked upon him with tenderness.

Tenderness, even when it was undeserved. Rumple had failed her so many times in their time together. He'd crushed his leg and made their family a laughingstock. He hadn't listened to her pleas and had taken the dagger and the powers for his own. He hadn't listened to her about Bae or about anything, and now they were looking for an alternative to a curse to find their missing child. Rumple shook his head. Never again would he not listen to his wife. She was intelligent and wise beyond her years. The next time she made a suggestion, he would listen. It was clear that between the two of them, Belle knew what was best. Rumplestiltskin chuckled at that. Perhaps his earlier comment had been incorrect. Perhaps he _did_ need a caretaker, after all.

~000~

Doing her best to remain silent, Belle continued to read even as her vision clouded with tears. How had her husband lived with such terrible memories? The thoughts he'd scribbled onto the pages before her were alarming at the least. Tales of violence, deceit, murder, and chaos filled the pages, and Belle shivered against the chill that had settled around her. The room was warm, Rumple had ensured that, but no warmth could diminish the frigid evil that the Dark One's of the past had been. Now she understood why her husband had insisted on staying up at all hours writing while she slept alone. Who would want to sleep knowing these were the visions that waited to come to life once sleep took over.

Just as horrifying as the pages were, they were equally confusing. So much history in so little time left Belle's mind wrecked and her head throbbing, but she was determined to learn. She was determined to help Rumplestiltskin. If she understood the darkness that resided within him, she would be better prepared to help him combat it. He was already so weary, it seemed. He was tired and frustrated and completely misunderstood by those he sought to help. She'd been locked up in the castle for so long, she had no idea what the outside world thought of her husband now, save for what he told her.

If she were honest with herself though, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

She couldn't defend him for all his actions, and she _wouldn't_. He was responsible for what he did, but that did not mean she could not stand by him as he worked to right his wrongs. The darkness was there, that much was clear, but compared to the thoughts and actions of Dark One's past, her husband was gentle as a lamb. Did it matter who took on the curse, she wondered. Was the person they were before crucial to how they were once they changed?

She knew that if controlled, the Dark One was at the whim of whoever held the dagger, and pondered if that meant the Dark One was equally responsible for actions done while under another's control. Did it really matter, in the end? The Dark One, in all his incarnations, had caused pain and suffering in one way or another. It seemed Rumple was dealing with more than just the reputation he was creating for himself. He wanted to be respected, but fear of the Dark One was already instilled in the minds of the people. Was he just using that to his advantage, so that people would fear him and not mock him? Or did Rumple want to be feared?

It was one of a list of questions Belle had, and so far the book was only adding to that list.

She read until her eyes grew heavy and the words blurred into a black mess against the pages. Marking the book with a scrap of parchment lying nearby, she shut the book quietly and laid her head atop it, using her arms as a pillow. She'd rest her eyes for a moment, then get back to it. She didn't have the stamina her husband had, but she was determined to try. They were partners again - allies in a cause, and Belle was determined to be useful. She'd wasted too much time feeling sorry for herself and being angry at her husband. It had brought her nothing but misery. Productivity was what she needed, and she already felt better knowing she was being useful. She just hoped she could find something. This curse was no pleasant thing, and though Belle wanted to reach her son, she wasn't sure if she could go through with it. The sacrifice that was required was too much she thought before yawning and drifting to sleep.

~000~

She awoke to the sound of screams. She felt something grab her, and she thrashed wildly trying to get away from whatever horror it was that tried to take her.

Then she heard Rumplestiltskin's voice yell her name, and she calmed. It was then she realized the screams had been her own. She blinked, then lifted her eyes to Rumple's face, creased with worry. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she felt dizzy and confused. She hiccupped as a sob escaped her and asked, "What happened?"

A relived chuckle passed his lips, and Rumple knelt down before Belle, taking her hand in his. "I was going to ask you the same question, dearest."

Belle looked away for a moment, biting her lip as she thought. She remembered reading and growing tired. She recalled her decision to rest for only a moment, and the next thing she knew she was in hysterics. Glancing down at the book, she shivered as the familiar feeling from her dream returned.

"I…think it was the book," she said softly, her voice raspy from screaming.

Rumple's hand ceased stroking hers and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'It was the book'?"

Belle bit her lip, trying to recall everything that had happened. "I was reading," she said, "About the Dark One. It was…..upsetting."

"Upsetting," Rumple echoed. Belle nodded.

"You know," she said with a shrug, "You wrote it. Anyway, I was getting tired, and I must have dozed off." She sighed and pressed the heel of one of her hands to her forehead. "I remember dreaming of fire. And there was someone screaming for help. And then someone – I couldn't see his face. He was in all black and I could _smell_ the evil on him. He grabbed me. He began speaking in a language I couldn't understand, but I know that whatever he said wasn't good. Then I woke up."

"Screaming bloody murder," Rumple added.

"I'm sorry," Belle said, then glanced at the book thoughtfully, "I guess I really don't understand what I'm getting into."

Rumple's hand, which had been holding hers, moved to pat her knee. "I think perhaps it's best if you stopped," he said, "This is far too dark for you. I won't have you be subjected to this kind of thing."

"No!" She cried, sliding onto her knees next to her husband, "I don't want to stop."

"Belle-"

"I promised," Belle stressed, "Rumple don't send me away. I've already started; I can't just stop at the first inconvenience."

"You suffer a traumatizing nightmare, and you call it an inconvenience?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Belle insisted, "Please. I can do this." She said it with more certainty than she felt, but Rumple could see the determination in her eyes. "Please."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "I shouldn't make you read those dark thoughts."

"You aren't making me," she said, "And if it means helping you find Bae, then I don't care. I want to help. And besides," she said, reaching out to touch her husband's face, "You've been carrying those dark thoughts by yourself for far too long. I don't want you to suffer alone anymore."

He hugged her at that, taking comfort in her. She clung to him tightly, not protesting when he stood and carried her out of the room. She only protested when he deposited her on her bed, proclaiming she needed to get back to work.

"Hush," Rumple chided her, using his magic to change her outfit into a nightgown before tucking her beneath the sheets. Understanding how much he needed her to let him do this, she remained silent and snuggled into the warm sheets. Rumple hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Do you want me to stay?"

She smiled and reached out for his hand. "I'd love for you to stay," she admitted, "But I understand if you'd rather work. You won't hurt my feelings if you put Bae first."

He wavered, and it seemed that he _would_ leave her to continue his work. But then he let go of her hand and circled around, crawling under the sheets. He pulled her so her back was pressed against his chest. "I can't accomplish anything tonight that cannot wait until later," he whispered as he pressed a kiss against her hair. "For now, let me take care of you."

~000~

The next morning Belle woke to the smell of bacon and hot tea. She opened her eyes and sat up groggily, stifling an undignified yawn when she saw Rumple standing next to the bed holding a tray piled high with food. He offered her a small smile before placing the tray at her feet, then carefully sat on the bed across from her. He handed her a steaming cup of tea, and Belle accepted it gratefully, sighing in contentment as she breathed in the aroma of honey, lemon, and mint.

"Thank _you,_ " she said as she lifted the cup to her lips. Rumplestiltskin watched her appreciatively for a moment, then picked up his own cup. He drank slowly, taking greater pleasure in watching Belle reach for a strip of bacon and nibbling at it. She noticed his staring a moment later and flushed.

"What?"

Shaking his head, Rumple picked up a piece for himself. "Nothing," he said softly, "Just enjoying the moment."

She smiled and hummed in agreement. "I'm glad we're okay."

His eyes lifted to meet hers and could see the sincerity on her face. He sagged in relief; he hadn't even realized he was still so tense around her. "As am I."

They ate for a few minutes in comfortable silence, and Rumple took the opportunity to study his wife. So much had happened the past several months, and it pained him to see the dark circles under her eyes. She had always been lovely, but now she looked like a woman who'd endured far too much. Her eyes were still dark with pain, and Rumple knew the only way the light would be restored would be when she laid eyes upon their son again. He was confident that with her help, that day would come sooner rather than later.

After she was finished, she piled their dishes on the tray, then gave Rumple a teasing grin. "Walk with me to the kitchen?"

He nodded and held his hand out to assist her out of the bed. She stood and picked up the tray and Rumple followed her out of the room. They walked close together, arms brushing as they moved. Rumple glanced at Belle, who was chewing on her bottom lip, clearly lost in her thoughts. He reached out and took the tray from her, forcing her to face him.

"What?"

He frowned, "Something's on your mind," Rumple stated, "Is it about the book?"

Belle tilted her head in confusion, then realized what he meant. "Oh!" She exclaimed, "No. No not the book."

Rumple's worry increased. "Then what's wrong?"

Belle shrugged and took the tray from her husband, "I was just wondering if you'd figured out a way for me to kiss you."

Laughing heartily, Rumple nodded.

"I spent a few minutes looking yesterday," he said, "I'm working on something. It should be finished soon."

Belle nodded, then grew contemplative. "Have any other Dark Ones had True Love?"

They entered the kitchen. Rumple took the opportunity, now that he'd let her carry the tray down to clean the mess on it with a wave of his hand. Belle narrowed her eyes at him playfully, and allowed him to draw her into his embrace.

"No other Dark One has had the privilege of having someone love them," Rumple said softly, "Truly I am favored in that regard."

"As am I."

"I want to kiss you."

Smiling, Belle held her hand up to stop him. "It's too dangerous."

Rumple dropped his head to her shoulder with a heavy sigh. Belle rubbed his back comfortingly. "I know."

"We should get to work," Belle said, "The sooner we do, the sooner we can solve all our problems."

"I'll let you enjoy your research," Rumple said, "So long as you're careful." He stared sternly at Belle who nodded obediently.

"I promise I will."

"Good," Rumple said, "Because I'm going to be going out a little while."

Belle let her hand fall to his waist. "Where?"

"To visit Regina. The woman who will cast the curse." He frowned at Belle's horrified look.

"Can't you wait?"

"I need to get to her before it's too late," Rumple protested, and Belle clasped his hand tightly in hers.

"But if you start down that path, it'll be harder to stop," she said, "Please don't do anything yet. I know you're eager, and I am too. But I don't want you to start something that cannot be undone. Please just give me a little time before you approach her."

Rumple sighed. "I can't wait long." He thought for a moment, then relented. "I can give you one month. If you haven't found something solid by then, I'm going to introduce myself to this girl and begin laying the foundation to have her cast this curse."

"I'll succeed," Belle swore. "I will."

He nodded and let Belle pull him toward the tower. He wanted nothing more than to visit the young queen anyway, but he'd promised Belle he'd wait. And it was only a month. He could wait that long, he supposed. He certainly wasn't about to break another deal. Not after last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're moving along!
> 
> Thank you once again to everyone who continues to stick with me through this journey. I'm so grateful to all of you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters and rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis.


	39. Aimless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We're going to find him,” Belle said defiantly. 
> 
> He glanced at her and offered a small smile. "I know."

39\. Aimless

Belle slammed the book she'd been reading shut and dropped her head to rest on the cover. It had been over two weeks since Rumple had given her the one month deadline and Belle had not wasted a moment of it. But time was passing quickly, and she was nowhere near a solution.

She glanced over to the spot her husband usually occupied, frowning when she remembered he was out for the day. Being cooped up in the castle for so long meant she had little knowledge of the events of the outside world. It was maddening, not knowing anything. It was even more maddening not knowing what her husband was doing. He was making a deal, she knew, but that had little meaning when she didn't really know what those deals entailed. He'd told her, to be sure, but she doubted he told her everything. Not because he didn't trust her, but because he wanted her to see the best in him, and if his behavior as the Dark One was less than pleasant, she didn't think he'd be eager to tell her so.

She made a mental note to ask Rumple to take her out soon, when the chaos of research was lessened. She longed to see the world in which she lived; to see what had changed in a year's time. She'd been consumed by her anger and grief for so long that she hadn't really desired to go outside. That chase after the magic wand had been her first real excursion outside, and it had rebirthed a longing to explore more than just the dimly lit walls of this castle.

Maybe, when all this was over and they'd found Bae, they could take a long holiday.

Deciding that for now a simple stroll around the castle would have to do, Belle stood and stretched, groaning when her back popped painfully. She wasn't like her husband, she thought idly, who could easily spend days immersed in his work. She needed breaks, as he so often reminded her. She smiled softly at that, as she roamed the halls, glad for the exercise. He was so protective of her. It wasn't overbearing, like he'd been when he first gained his powers; he was simply aware of his non-magical wife dealing in things she did not fully understand. She appreciated his trust in her, that he allowed her to work by his side and she equally appreciated his watchful monitoring. He worried about her well-being, especially after he'd roused her from that dreadful nightmare. She struggled with them now and then, but she kept that to herself. There was no need to burden her love with more grief than she already had.

She walked aimlessly, letting herself get lost in her home. Even after all this time she had not seen it all, and she was beginning to feel her innate curiosity bubble within her again. She wanted to explore, to learn. And here she had the perfect opportunity. She had no desire to learn magic; she wasn't sure if one could do magic without a curse. She supposed it was possible, but she had no interest in it. She did however, find it fascinating how magic seemed to work, and she knew in her heart that, given enough time, she would find the right kind of magic that would lead her and Rumplestiltskin to their son. And no curses or removed hearts would be required.

She walked on, as lost in her thoughts as she was in the large castle. She didn't worry, knowing she would find familiar ground soon enough. She rounded a corner, and in her distraction, crashed directly into her husband. He looked at her curiously, clearly not expecting her to be so far from the familiar rooms she frequented. She smiled and wordlessly took his arm, and he took the hint that she wanted him to walk with her. They walked silently through the halls, Belle doing her best to remember details of where they were, should she find herself here again.

As if he were reading her mind, Rumple spoke, "I should give you a proper tour."

Belle glanced up at him curiously. "How do you know your way around so easily?"

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I mostly use magic to go from room to room. Most of the castle goes unused at any rate, so remembering where the rooms I do use are is not difficult.

"Why is the castle so big?"

Rumple shrugged. "We needed space."

"We don't need this much-"

She cut off as she realized he didn't mean space for things. There was plenty of that to be sure, but he meant it space between them. She frowned at the thought, and squeezed Rumple's arm a little tighter, as if afraid he might leave her suddenly.

Sensing her tension, Rumple spun to face her, wrapped his arm around her, then used his magic to sweep them out of the castle. When they landed, Belle clutched Rumple tightly, and he laughed heartily as he held her close in an effort to keep her steady as her head reeled from dizziness.

"Warn me next time," she groaned, and Rumple said nothing, instead pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

When Belle no longer felt that she might be sick, she looked up, blinking in surprise to find she was outside. The sun was bright and warm on her face, and Belle tilted her head back, letting the comforting familiarity of the sun wash over her. It really had been far too long.

"I thought we might take a walk," Rumple suggested, gesturing to the path that stretched out past them. Belle nodded eagerly and took his arm.

"I was actually going to ask you if I could go outside," she said casually as they walked arm in arm. Rumple frowned.

"You need not ask me for permission," he said softly, "This is your home and you are free to do as you will."

She squeezed his arm comfortingly, "I know," she said, "But I don't know _where_ we are. I've spent my entire time here cooped up in my room, and I want to remedy that. I'd like, when we're not working, to explore some. Is there a village nearby?"

Rumple nodded, "There's a small town about four miles east," he said, pointing a long, darkened nail in that direction, "It's quaint and rather poor; it reminds me of our old home.

"I'd like to visit," Belle said softly, "This new village and our old one. I would love to see Anna and Morainne. And Agda. We disappeared without hardly a goodbye, I'm sure they're all worried."

"About you," Rumple stated, "They're probably worried about _you_. I'm a murderer, remember? They probably have assumed the worst has happened to you."

"All the more reason to visit," she shrugged, not in the mood to argue. "They'll see I'm fine, and maybe some rumors about how awful you are will dispel." Belle felt Rumple tense under her hands and she stopped walking and tugged at him, forcing him to look at her. "You don't want those rumors proven false," she said, and it wasn't a question. "You _want_ them to think the worst of you."

He nodded, "Not regarding you," he said swiftly, "But as I've said, the Dark One has a reputation. I have to maintain it. I'm adding my own spin to it," he stopped to laugh at his joke, "But that's how it has to be."

"I understand." She didn't, but she wasn't going to fight him on the subject. A small part of her hoped that when she finished the memoirs of the Dark Ones past, she may better understand her husband's position. She wanted that almost as much as she wanted to find an alternative.

People need me, Belle," he stressed, feeling the need to justify himself, "They may not think I'm fair, but I'm doing the best I can."

"I know," she sighed, leaning into him and wrapping her arms around him, "We both are."

He held her for some time, his forehead resting against hers. It was a much needed moment, and Rumplestiltskin treasured it. Things had been going well over the past weeks, at least between him and Belle. They had reached an understanding and while the wounds were still tender, they'd both realized it was better to struggle and heal together than it was to mourn separately. He loved her too much at any rate, to let her suffer alone, and he wished he'd been more aware of that sooner. He'd missed so much time with his wife, and he was determined to make it up to her.

Moving away, he grabbed her hand and began to guide her toward the gardens. They'd come with the castle, and Rumple had used some magic to have the plants and flowers grow and care for themselves. He rarely ventured out here, and only to collect items he needed to practice a potion. But he knew Belle loved the outdoors and thought being surrounded by life and color might do her some good.

It seemed to work; he lit up at the sight of the roses and tulips growing in long rows down a rocky path. He led her around, showing her everything that grew. Bushes lined a path leading to a large clearing that featured a single oak in the middle. Rumple settled against the tree, glad for the shade, and let Belle roam free, watching as she enjoyed running her fingers over petals and leaves.

She looked so lovely and young, and he was pleased she no longer wore her peasant dress. It was sentimental, but he wanted her to have finer things; things he once had never even dreamed of being able to give her. Fine clothes were one of them. He knew Belle was not vain, but he enjoyed seeing her in color. She would never wear any of the elaborate gowns he'd provided, but seeing her in something other than the ratty blue dress made his spirits soar. She looked like a true lady of the castle, dressed in a flowing green dress that made her skin glow and her eye pop.

While she explored, he summoned a blanket and a small basket filled with food from the pantry. He set up a small meal, looking up with a grin as Belle exclaimed in delight.

"A picnic!" Belle exclaimed in delight before her smile dropped. "Shouldn't we work instead?" Instead he summoned a blanket and a basket of food and gestured for her to sit with him.

Rumplestiltskin shook his head.

"We will work later," he said as he pulled her arm. She lowered herself to the ground, legs folded under her. "For now I want to treat my wife to a picnic." He offered her some bread and an apologetic smile. "I've neglected you for far too long."

"As I did you," she said, accepting his offering and taking a small bite. They ate in silence, both too preoccupied with the warmth of the sun and the beauty that surrounded them. Once she was finished, Belle laid back, resting her hands beneath her head and sighing happily as she rested in the shade. Rumple watched her lovingly, cherishing the simple moment. These were the times he missed; when everything was simple. He longed for that day to come again. And it would. Soon. After a while she fell asleep and though she was right that they needed to work, he didn't have the heart to wake her. He let her sleep and when she finally woke, Rumple lifted her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she said with a frown, "I didn't mean to fall sleep." Rumple shrugged.

"It's no matter, dear," he said as he picked up the basket and offered her his arm, "You looked peaceful. And besides," he smirked, "You could use the sun. You're pale."

She flushed and glanced down at her arms, which were left bare from the short sleeves of her dress. "I suppose I am," she sighed, "But that's my own fault."

"One we'll remedy together," he said and Belle giggled, looking forward to the hinted promise of frequent outings together to the garden.

~000~

They spent the rest of the afternoon in his workroom reading and working. Belle was bent over one of the books Rumple had written, frowning as she read more of the dark thoughts that haunted his mind.

"These Dark Ones seem awful," she mused aloud. Rumple grunted in response, and she glanced up at him. Pushing her hair out of her face, she sank in her chair and pulled the book closer. "From the way you write, it seems they fully relished in their power until they'd lived so long it simply...lost its appeal."

"That's generally how it went," Rumple sighed as he measured ingredients for a potion to help keep Belle's kiss from stealing away his curse. If all went well, he'd be able to properly kiss her again in a matter of days. He was adamant to keep his promise to give Belle a month. He would not neglect the curse in that time; but until he assured assistance from the Queen Regina, there wasn't much to be done.

"They either got tired after centuries, or like Zoso, they were taken prisoner and realized that their power truly was a curse."

"There's so much about the Dark One," Belle sighed as she tilted her head back against the headrest, turning so she could watch her husband, "How on earth do you handle it?"

"By remembering that while I am the Dark One, I'm not _them_ ," Rumple said wearily. "I relish the power," he admitted, "I do. Or rather, I did. It's nice to be strong, to have this life. But I let my fear get in the way of what truly mattered and ended up doing the one thing I vowed never to do."

"Losing Bae?"

Rumple nodded. "Losing Bae."

"We're going to find him," Belle said defiantly.

He glanced at her and offered a small smile. "I know."

Belle turned back to her book and began reading again. Rumple focused on his potions. Hours later he looked up after the potion had successfully been completed to see Belle slumped over the book sound asleep. She seemed at peace today, and Rumple hoped no nightmares about the Dark One would plague her tonight. She tried to hide it, his brave Belle, but he knew her too well to let the deception fool him. She cried out in her sleep at times; and Rumplestiltskin was a light sleeper.

He'd been planning to tell her of his success with the potion, but she'd been working hard, and he had no desire to disturb her. This could wait. For the second time that day, Rumple lifted Belle into his arms and carried her to her room. Her soft, steady breathing soothed him, and having her weight in his arms brought about a lightness of heart that made Rumple feel as if he could fly.

He tucked her in, warmth filling him when she reached out to take his hand. Deciding to take her gesture as a request to stay, Rumple moved around and settled next to her, taking comfort in having her close. She was a marvel, his Belle. Despite their troubles, she'd never let him down. And she wouldn't. He didn't know how, but he believed above all else that Belle would find a way. She had too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You got a lot riding on a girl who has no clue how magic works, buddy.
> 
> We're moving along! Hope you're enjoying the ride so far.
> 
> Thank you for your reviews and favorites and follows. They make my day, truly.
> 
> If you like this story, you may want to check out my Tumblr (same user name as here) for some more fanfics. I intend to post more stuff here, but Tumblr is where the majority of my stuff is at present, so if you want more Rumbelle, check out my master list there!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	40. Past and Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This girl had enough darkness in her to cast the curse. She just needed a gentle push in the right direction.

40\. Past and Future

Rumplestiltskin stood at the doorway, rocking back and forth on his heels. It was time to tell her. The month he'd given Belle to find an alternative route to their son had expired the day before, but Rumple was finding it difficult to carry on with his original plans. To have the hope of Belle finding something else, to have her working studiously by his side was a wonderful thing, and he was reluctant to give it up. He wondered what she would do when he told her he was going to have to meet Regina today. He could just see the disappointment in her eyes, the bitter sting of defeat as she struggled on whether to let him go or beg him to stay.

He wanted to stay. But he needed his son.

With a sigh, Rumple stepped forward. He watched as Belle turned the page and felt his chest tighten. He was about to disappoint her. Again. And it filled him with frustration. There had to be another way. There had to be a simpler way to the land without magic. But no other Dark One had ever cared – nor wanted – to go to a land without magic. Why would they? And so there was nothing in his memories about how to travel between realms. Apparently none of the other books contained that information either.

It was easy to travel between worlds, but the majority of those contained magic. Rumple knew he could portal jump, there were plenty of resources in that regard, but there was nothing about getting to a magicless land.

The one place he wanted to go was the one place he couldn't reach, for all his power.

He stopped walking and instead watched Belle a little longer. She was completely unaware of his presence, too absorbed with the books in front of her. At any rate, seeing her determined and working was a comfort. The faces she made as she read something confusing or intriguing were precious to him. Having her on his side and fighting the same battle as him was equally comforting. He just hoped their endeavors didn't end in failure. Rumple was so tired of failing, but Belle was here, and that gave him hope. Watching his wife silently reading over spells and potions gave Rumple the courage he needed to move closer and break the news to her. She would be disappointed, but perhaps it would stir her resolve. If he believed in nothing else, he believed in Belle. She was his mantra, his driving force, and he could not doubt her now.

He stood before her, and she remained oblivious to his presence. He waited a moment, but when she did not look up after turning three pages he stooped down with a sigh. There was no use in delaying any longer. Pressing his hand to her thigh, Belle jumped and looked up with red eyes.

"You're exhausted," he said simply.

Belle shrugged. "I'm fine."

He wasn't going to argue. She was stubborn, and he would accomplish nothing except fighting with her if he insisted she get some rest. Best to let her simply fall asleep on her own, book in hand.

"I have to go," he said and Belle blinked.

"Why?"

It was now or never. "It's been a month, Belle, and I can't delay."

He could see her expression drop, and she tilted her head down to stare at the book. "I didn't realize it had been so long," she whispered, "Time doesn't really mean much for me here."

"Please don't give up." He wasn't sure where the desperate plea came from, but now that it was out there was nothing to be done. He didn't know what he would do if Belle gave up. He didn't think he could bear to go through this alone again.

She closed the book and let it balance on the arm of the chair. Taking Rumple's hands in her own, she offered him an assuring grin. "I won't," she promised. "I'm going to keep looking. I've still got time, haven't I?"

Rumple nodded. "Aye, you do."

"Then I'll keep looking."

He'd never been so proud, or so in love with her than in that moment. "I love you," he said, feeling a stupid grin spreading across his lips.

"And I love you."

They paused a moment, then Belle lifted her eyes to once more meet his. "You really can't hold off longer?"

"It would be best not to."

She sighed. "Very well."

She stood, pulling Rumple up with her and wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her by the waist, burying his nose into her hair and breathing deeply. "I'm sorry, Belle," he whispered, hating himself even more for bringing them to this place. Cowardice had cost him so much. He wondered if he would ever be free of the debt.

"Don't be sorry," Belle chided gently, turning her head to press a kiss against his neck. "You gave me a month, and I failed."

"You haven't failed," he insisted.

"Hopefully I won't."

He stepped away from her and took her hands in his. "I'll be back soon."

Stepping back and letting their hands fall away, Rumple flicked his wrist, and a cloud of smoke settled around him. When it cleared, his attire had changed. Where he once wore the simple leather pants and a red silk shirt with waistcoat, he now wore all black, with a large spiky jacket. He seemed more mischievous, and tittered menacingly at his wife. Rolling her eyes, Belle stepped forward and reached out to adjust the black cravat tied around his neck.

"Fearsome as ever," she teased, and Rumple smiled wickedly at her.

"Must look the part, dearie."

She gripped the lapels of his jacket. "I love you."

Rumple sobered, the showman vanishing for the moment. "I love you too."

"When am I going to be able to kiss you again?"

That question caught him off guard, and Rumple had to think a long moment before he could register what she had asked. Having her so close, so willing in his arms was enough to drive him to distraction. Now she wanted to kiss him, and he was going to have to take a few minutes to calm himself before he appeared in front of the queen.

"I've got a few more steps before it's finished," he said, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "It will be soon. "

"Well, hurry up," she smiled, "I've a longing to kiss my husband."

"And you shall," Rumple swore. "I've no idea why you wish to, but I shall deny you nothing."

He could see her contemplate scolding him for the self-deprecating comment, but she let it go in favor of hugging him again.

"Be safe."

He stepped away, bowed deeply, and vanished.

~000~

When Rumplestiltskin reappeared, it was in a room elaborately decorated by someone who clearly enjoyed black. It was tacky, Rumple thought as he crinkled his nose in distaste. Everything was dark and foreboding, and while he knew his own castle looked like some kind of hoarder's paradise, he at least had a wife who took pains to keep the place decent and homey. This room, and the others if he were correct, looked like a lair suited for someone who valued the discomfort of others rather than their own comfort.

In that regard, Rumplestiltskin thought, perhaps the place was perfect.

Belle would hate it here, he thought with mild amusement. It was too dark and too depressing. He could just see Belle's reaction, and envisioned the look of disgust on her face as he described the setting to her. That thought gave him pause. He had a wife to whom he could return home and share stories. What a glorious feeling that was! Nearly ten months ago they'd barely been able to look at one another. Now they were working together, and Belle had voiced her desire to kiss him. Things between them were beginning to get better, where nearly a year ago they had been all but destroyed.

It hit him like a knife. It had been nearly a year. Rumple thought back and realized with a gasp that Baelfire's birthday was coming up in a week. It was a blow to the heart, and Rumple staggered back as it dawned on him that his son would be celebrating a birthday in an unknown world, possibly all alone and scared. How had the time gone by so quickly? He'd taken the powers of the Dark One right before his son's fourteenth birthday. His son's fifteenth had been pleasant enough, though the strains between the family had already settled deep. Bae had vanished not two months after that.

Now he would be sixteen. Rumple swallowed thickly and took a moment to collect himself. He could not dwell on Bae now. But it restored his drive and his anger, and he knew that what he was doing was the right thing to do. He had a deal to make.

"Who are you?"

Rumple spun around, slowly and deliberately, to see a young woman standing before him. Where the room around them was dark and dreary, she was a shining light dressed in a long white gown, her pale skin glowed against the few lit candles. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in black waves, while her lips shown as red as if they were coated in the blood of her enemies. Rumple smirked. This girl would do just fine.

"The name is Rumplestiltskin, Your Majesty," he said, easily falling into character and sweeping into a low bow, "And I'm here - _Regina_ \- because I believe I have something you need."

The queen raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, apparently unimpressed. "You're the Dark One," she said at length. "I know about you; you trained my mother."

Placing a hand dramatically to his chest, Rumple giggled. He hadn't trained her mother, but the Dark One had. May as well use that to his advantage. If the girl suspected he'd had a relationship with her mother, perhaps that could be used to his advantage. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Yet.

"I see my reputation precedes me," Rumple said smugly.

"She didn't like you."

"Yes, well, we all have our difference," Rumple said with a wave of his hand, "Not every partnership can last forever."

"Did she make some sort of deal with you for me?"

Wasn't she perceptive, Rumple thought with amusement? From what he knew of the situation – and wasn't it maddening when some memories were only half-retained? – was that Regina was part of a deal. She was meant to be the child of the Dark One, though Rumple didn't know to what end. What he did know was that the girl's mother and his predecessor had parted on very bad terms, and now he was back to take that very daughter to twist and use to his own particular end.

Fate was a funny thing sometimes.

"No, no, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said as he began to walk. "I'm not here because of your mother. I'm here because of _you_."

She touched a well-manicured hand to her chest. "Me?"

"Yes, yes, dear," Rumple said dramatically. "You."

"What do you want with me?"

Rumple turned and took a moment to study the queen. If he didn't look too closely, he could almost pretend she was an innocent. She was young, wide eyed and pretty, but beyond those shallow features laid a dormant anger and hatred that raged and demanded to be let loose. She was full of it. Her eyes were lovely and dark, and they housed a rage unlike anything Rumple had ever witnessed. She was thirsty for revenge, and apparently only partially bothered by the deep-seated wrath that rested within her. This girl had enough darkness in her to cast the curse. She just needed a gentle push in the right direction.

She flushed under his scrutiny, then finally steeled herself and asked again, "What do you want?"

Rumple tittered, waving his hands in a flourish, "I want to help you," he said with a dishonest smile.

Regina laughed bitterly, "Help me? How? Can you make all my problems go away? Can you kill that horrid Snow White? Can you bring back my true love? Can you guarantee my happy ending?" She was losing her composure, clearly all those problems weighing heavily on her heart and mind. She was a twig on the verge of snapping, and Rumple needed to make her bend just a little further.

Oh yes, Rumple thought, surprised at his glee. This was _perfect_.

"I can't," Rumple said simply, "But you can. With _my help_."

She tilted her head curiously, looking interested in his proposal. "I have a curse," Rumple began as he sauntered around the room, "That can guarantee your happy ending, as well as the eternal misery of everyone who has ever wronged you."

Her eyes lit up as if he'd just given her the world. And really, he had. "It's a curse that will make everyone, but you," he stressed, "Forget who they are. They'll be separated from those they love. They'll have no memory of this place or who they were. And you can rule over them all, reveling in the joy of knowing that no one shall ever be happy again - but _you_."

Regina stepped forward, and her smile turned wicked. In the back of his mind, Rumple could see an image of the girl's mother, her own blood red lips wearing the very same wicked grin. Resisting a shiver, Rumple stepped forward. "Interested?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course I am!" She exclaimed. "I'll take it."

"Ah ah," Rumple said, wagging a finger in front of her face. She crinkled her nose and stepped back from him, clearly not wanting to be touched. "There's a price for this, dearie."

Regina shrugged. "I'll give you anything."

Rumple smirked and laughed impishly. "I like your determination," he declared with a flair, "The price is this: You cannot cast the curse until I tell you so. And when the times comes, you _must_ cast it."

Regina stared at him incredulously. "That's it?" She asked. "I can't cast it until you tell me to."

"And you have to cast it. No matter your reservations. Once you agree to this, there's no getting out of it."

"Why would I want to get out of it?" She demanded, "This is my happy ending."

"Of course it is, dearie."

There was so much more to the curse than that. The key to her happy ending was not in this curse, but that would not get him what he wanted. He felt a small pang of guilt at manipulating this young woman, but he'd already witnessed the darkness within her. He could not feel too bad about using her own vengeful desires to get him what he wanted.

At any rate, if Belle succeeded, there would be no need for the curse. If Belle failed, well, Rumple thought, it was a good thing all curses can be broken.

"Then I'll do it."

Rumple produced a contract out of air, and Regina reached out instantly for the quill. She signed her name at the bottom, then smiled at Rumple menacingly. "When can I cast it?"

"Patience, dearie," Rumple teased, making the contract disappear, "Good things come to those who wait."

"An estimate, then."

Rumple pursed his lips as he thought. He knew what needed to be done in order to break the curse, and that would take a few more years to accomplish. "I've numerous affairs I must take care of first," Rumple explained cryptically, "There are several factors that must fall into place before you can truly enjoy the full experience of your happy ending."

"Such as?" Regina prompted.

"Well," Rumple said slowly, "What good is taking away one's happiness if they aren't _truly_ happy?"

Regina stared for a long moment before understanding dawned. "You want Snow White to find her happy ending?"

"There's a good girl!" Rumple praised. "Yes," he said. "And once she has it. You-" he stopped, motioning for her to complete the idea.

"Take it away."

Rumple grinned. "Exactly."

"I like the way you think, Rumplestiltskin."

Ignoring her, Rumple said, "I'll check up on you from time to time, see how you're fairing."

"Very well."

"Might want to practice your magic in the meantime," Rumple instructed, "This curse won't be easy to cast.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Regina swore.

Rumple grinned. "Happy to hear it."

Then he vanished once more, trying not to hate himself for what he'd just done.

~000~

Belle glanced up; her vision was blurry, and her eyes were sore. The sun was setting beyond the window, and she frowned. How long ago had Rumple left? How long had she been reading? Time really meant so little to her now, and it was amazing how she could go for hours without noticing any time had passed at all.

She stood, wincing as her muscles protested from the movement after so staying idle for so long. Belle touched her hand to her stomach, which growled at the contact and decided that she needed to eat. She didn't feel very hungry, but if she was going to insist on Rumple eating regularly, then she needed to do so as well.

She left the room, then stopped. If Rumple was back, perhaps he was hungry too. Deciding to first see if he had returned, she turned down another hallway, and called out his name. She checked the great hall, the kitchens themselves, and her bedroom, but he was not there. Deciding there was only one other room he might be occupying, Belle headed toward Baelfire's room. If he wasn't there, then she would simply go back to the kitchen and make dinner, and she would prepare him something when he eventually returned.

It was with a relief that she saw a crack in the door. He was back. But this also posed a problem. What could have caused him to shut himself away in their son's room? She could only imagine he was upset, and decided to tread carefully. She pushed the door open to find Rumple sitting on Bae's bed. He was holding the boy's shawl, staring at it forlornly.

Belle approached him softly and knelt down at his feet. "I thought you might be here," she said softly, reaching up to lay her hand over his. "I'm positively famished," she said, "Would you like to come eat with me?"

Rumple shook his head slightly, and Belle frowned. "What's wrong?" She asked, rising onto her knees. "Did Regina refuse?"

"No," Rumple whispered, "She's eager."

"Then what's wrong?"

He didn't look at her. "Do you know what next week is?"

Belle stared at him curiously, then shook her head. "I'm sorry to say I've no idea what the date is."

His voice was soft, and Belle almost missed the words. "It's Bae's birthday."

Belle gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. His birthday? He'd been gone nearly a year, then. Belle felt tears sting her already pained eyes and she lowered her head. "Oh, Bae."

"I only realized it after I left," Rumple said. "I thought I might break down in front of the Queen."

"Oh, Rumple…."

"I'm so sorry, Belle," Rumple said as he began to shake. "I've ruined everything."

Belle pulled him into her arms, and he cried into her shoulder as she held him. "It's been hard for both of us," she said, fighting her own tears, "We're trying. And we're together. And we'll be together soon."

Rumple said nothing, instead he wrapped his arms around Belle and held her tight. When at last he calmed, he sat back up. Belle sank down once more, one their hands still joined.

"We should celebrate his birthday," she whispered thoughtfully, "I want to think of what Bae would do if he were here."

"He'd want to visit Morainne," Rumple smiled, then added, "And Anna."

"He'd insist I make those cakes he liked so much."

"And eat half of them before you caught him."

"And I'd get so upset and kick him out of the kitchen, telling him to go bother his father."

"But you'd laugh when he was gone," Rumple smiled at the vision. "Because you love that he loves them."

Belle nodded. "And you'd spoil him with all kinds of gifts; books and clothing and a sword," Belle sniffled, though she was smiling, "He always wanted a real sword."

"I'd have given him one," Rumple said indulgently. "And I would have taught him how to use it properly."

"He would have had such a wonderful time," Belle said dreamily. Rumple agreed.

"Aye, he would."

Their eyes met, and though it was a deep ache, then both felt peace. They would celebrate their son when the day came, and though it would be a day marred by the distinct absence of their precious boy, they would carry on and honor the child they both loved so much. And soon enough, they would be reunited with him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I've changed some aspects of the character's histories. The Dark One and Cora still had their fling, but it wasn't Rumple specifically. In this I also had to make Regina less hesitant about going dark.
> 
> But what does all this mean for Belle? Will she find something? Or is it Rumple's destiny to create and have the Dark Curse cast? Who knows. (I do.)
> 
> Thanks to my betas. You guys rock. And thank you to all my readers. I appreciate your support so much.
> 
> I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters and rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	41. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She walked the familiar path, watching the people go about their business. She watched familiar faces, people she had once loved, glance up at her with little recognition. Had she been forgotten in such a short time?

Rumplestiltskin stood at the workbench with a single candle lit in the midst of scattered papers, vials, and books. Rumple had buried himself in work over the past week, focusing solely on the curse and trying to figure out all the intricate details that he needed to piece together to make the curse bend to his will, even as another person cast it.

It was only when Belle had mentioned taking a break earlier that morning that Rumple remembered why he'd been so absorbed in the task at hand. It was Baelfire's birthday. Rumple stared at the candle, watching as the flame danced and flickered every time his breath breezed over it. In Rumple's hands was Bae's shawl, and he wound his fingers around the cloth absently. The material was the only thing that made him feel close to his son.

It had been two years since everything had begun. It had been two years ago that Rumplestiltskin had gone after the Dark One with the intent to save his son. With a scoff, Rumple glanced at his surroundings, wishing he could have prevented all this from happening. Even if he'd been able to anticipate everything, it wouldn't have done any good. His ability to peer into the future was practically worthless. It told so little and made everything more confusing than it was not knowing at all.

With a sigh, Rumple brought the shawl up and kissed it. "Happy birthday, son."

His boy was sixteen today. It was hard to believe so much time had passed. Rumple wondered vaguely what his son would have done for his birthday had he not been swallowed up by a portal. Would he have wanted to spend the day with his parents? Or would he desire time with his friends? Would he have approached Morainne, and told her he loved her? Rumple thought back to the brave little girl who reminded him so much of Belle. Morainne would have made a perfect daughter-in-law if Rumple were any judge, and it pained him to know that both his son and the lovely girl from the village would never have a chance together.

Shaking his head, Rumple pushed that thought away. It was no use dwelling on what could have been. He needed to look to the future. He needed to look to a future in which this was the last birthday he missed. He looked to a future in which his son would never be lost or fatherless again. But there was still so much to do until that time. He had secured Regina's assistance in the matter, but the rest of the pieces would fall into place in time. Rumple just had to exercise patience.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening behind him. Belle entered carrying a tea tray with a pile of sweet cakes. Rumple smiled softly at the sight and reached out to take the tray from her. Placing it on the table, he picked up a cake while Belle poured them tea. They wordlessly touched their glasses together and drank deeply a silent toast to their son. Rumple took a bite of his treat, and memories of a simple life in which these were truly the highlight of the year flooding his mind. He remembered how much Bae loved his mother's cooking and how much Belle loved pretending to be upset that her son couldn't show restraint and wait until after supper.

He missed that dynamic so dearly.

Now life was anything but simple and peaceful, but Rumple took solace in the fact that despite it all, he still had Belle by his side. After all their hardships, after everything he'd done, she was still here. And Rumple knew he could not do this without her. Had it not been for Belle and her love for him, he'd have succumbed to his grief long ago.

Belle seemed to sense where his mind had wandered to. Stepping closer to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and let her head rest against his shoulder. "I miss him, too," she whispered.

Rumple slid his arm around her and accepted the comfort she offered. "We'll get him back."

Belle snuggled into her husband's arms and let out a heavy sigh. "I want to visit the girls," she said at last, "I think today would be appropriate."

Rumple nodded. "I'll send you there, if you'd like."

Pulling away slightly, Belle frowned, "You're not coming?"

"It would be best if I stayed away," he said, "The people were more accommodating of you than they ever were of me."

"I don't want to leave you alone."

Shaking his head, Rumple took Belle's hands in his. "Go see them," he said, "Bae would want you to. I have some things to do."

Belle frowned. "More deals?"

"It's a step closer to Bae," Rumple explained, "There are some key people who have to meet."

"I thought that queen was going to cast the curse?"

Rumple nodded, "Aye, but she won't be the one to break it."

Belle eyes widened in understanding. "All this curse business is terribly confusing."

Rumple pressed a kiss to his wife's temple. "Go get ready, sweetheart," Rumple said, "Let me worry about the curse."

Belle nodded weakly and stepped away to prepare getting ready for her trip to their old village. When she was gone, Rumple turned back to the candle, still flickering joyfully. He smiled sadly, whispered his son's name and blew out the flame.

~000~

Belle thought she'd never see this place again. She stood near the edge of the forest, watching silently as people went about their normal business. Rumple had left her to go about his plans. He seemed so preoccupied, and Belle wondered if he was trying to forget about today despite his desire the previous week to honor their son. Was he so consumed with guilt that he could not allow himself one day? Shaking her head sorrowfully, Belle pulled the hood of her cloak over hear head, leaving her features covered in shadow. She stepped forward, ever mindful of the mud on the ground. Her boots were quickly caked, and she walked slowly, trying to keep her dress lifted high enough so that it would not stain. She'd never felt so foolish or vain before, so she reconciled the fact that she simply didn't want to have to clean it later on. It was a weak excuse, but good enough, so she lifted the skirts of her heavy, blue dress, which looked more fitting for a princess than a peasant.

But she was no longer a peasant, she thought idly as she walked, clutching the midnight blue cloak around her to ward off the chill. She may not have been royal by birth or by marriage, but she still lived as grand as a queen. She had more food than she'd ever need, more dresses than she had occasion to wear. It was a life of luxury, and it was something she still hadn't quite adapted to, despite her gratitude for it all.

She walked the familiar path, watching the people go about their business. She watched familiar faces, people she had once loved, glance up at her with little recognition. Had she been forgotten in such a short time? Or had her marriage to Rumplestiltskin made her just as monstrous as him in their eyes? Belle had so little interaction with people over the past year that she was no longer certain she could even relate to these people if she wanted to.

The first stop would be to see Agda. She had been swept away so quickly after their last talk, and while Belle knew that she had technically heeded Agda's advice, she doubted Agda would be pleased that she had left without so much as a goodbye. She arrived at the woman's hut and knocked on the door. It opened, and Agda appeared. Despite only being gone a year, Belle was surprised to see how the woman had aged. Her face still had a tinge of youth to it, but the crows' feet that had settled at her eyes and the lines around her lips and forehead suggested that her beauty was beginning to give way to time.

Agda regarded Belle for a moment before recognition lit up her eyes. "Oh my sweet girl!" She cried, grabbing Belle's wrists and tugging her inside the hut. Agda slammed the door shut, then turned and swept Belle into a tight, motherly hug. "I thought I'd lost you!"

Belle was overcome with emotion. She hadn't realized just how much she missed this place, but now that she was here, all the memories of a life happily lived came flooding back and spilled from her eyes. She gripped Agda closely, sobbing in relief and her dear friend held her.

Finally, the older woman pulled away and ran her hand over Belle's hood, knocking it back so she could observe her better.

"Oh, love," Agda said softly, "You look so pale. And tired. Are you well? What's happened?"

Belle motioned to the table and Agda led her to it. Belle sat and Agda began preparing some tea. When at last the other woman was seated and they both had steaming cups in their hand, Belle spoke.

"I'm as well as can be," she began. "Rumple and I left, as you well know."

"Disappeared like a scoundrel in the night," Agda said, brushing away her tears. "I thought the worst."

"We left right after our last conversation," Belle said, "I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. We just...left."

"He stole you, is what it sounds like."

Belle shook her head solemnly. "Rumple has never made me do anything I did not want to do," she sighed, "He told me the night we left that if I wished to go back, he would let me. As angry as I was, I did not want to leave him."

"You must truly love the bastard," Agda said with an impressed huff. "You're either brave or foolish."

"A little of both, I think," Belle said with a smile, "It's taken a long time, and I'm still grieving, but we...we're all right. We'll never be the same, we can't be the same. But he loves me, and I love him. Possibly more than I ever dared imagine."

Agda watched her for a long moment, studying her. She licked her lips nervously, then asked, "And your boy?"

Belle shook her head, and heaved a heavy sigh. "We're looking for him," she stated, "Together."

"You're not into that magic of his are you?" Agda eyed her worriedly, and Belle reached out to take the woman's hand.

"I don't practice it if that's what you mean."

"That's what I mean."

Belle nodded and squeezed Agda's hand. "I read. About magic. So I can understand it as best I'm able. But I don't use it."

That answer seemed to appease Agda, and she nodded firmly. "Good."

They both took a sip of their tea, then Agda asked, "So where is the bastard?"

Belle gave the woman a dry look. "He thought it best if he made himself scarce," Belle replied, "After everything, he feels best if he stays away."

"I'd agree," Agda agreed. "Gods know what I'd do if I saw him right now."

"Please don't hate him," Belle begged, looking at Agda with wide, pleading eyes. "He's not a monster. He's not a bad man, truly. He's done so many stupid things, but it was all borne out of love. Surely you cannot hate him for such a thing?"

"I don't hate him, love," Agda replied, "Though I worry about what he's doing to you. You don't look well."

Waving her hand dismissively, Belle finished her tea. "I let myself go. I've only been around Rumple for a couple months. Other than that, he left me to my own devices; he gave me the space I demanded. I didn't go outside. I stayed in my room and mourned." She sighed wearily, "I've only just broken through the surface. Rumple grieves too, but in his own way. We're only just now finding a way to put the pieces back together."

"It sounds like you've gone through hell," Agda mused while watching Belle carefully. Belle nodded, thinking back to all that had transpired since Bae's fourteenth birthday.

"I have," Belle whispered, "But I'm not the only one. We both have done so many awful things over the past two years. But we're working through that." Belle dropped her head as a blush crept up, "We have True Love, Agda."

"That's just a children's tale," Agda scoffed.

Belle shook her head. "But it isn't. It's magic. I've experienced it, Agda."

"I thought you didn't dabble in his magic?"

"I don't," Belle replied, "This is another kind of magic entirely. It's pure, and good. It-" she hesitated, then continued softly, as if afraid she may be heard by prying ears. "It can break his curse, Agda. It almost did."

"Well," Agda said, sitting back in her chair, looking intrigued and amused, "If your love for him is as strong as all that, then I would be a fool to doubt you. Your heart knows what it wants."

"It does," Belle agreed. "It wants my son. But it also wants Rumplestiltskin. All of him."

"Then hold on to him, love," Agda said, reaching out to take Belle's hand once more. "Hold on tight and never let go."

"I made that mistake once," Belle said, resting her other hand on their joined ones. "And I'll never make it again."

~000~

It was hard to leave Agda's side. Agda had been such a source of comfort and strength for Belle over the years, now she had her back, she didn't want to leave. But Agda held her, and encouraged her, saying they would see each other again. Belle took no comfort in her certainty but said nothing about the curse and what it would do. That would only cause an argument, and though it upset Belle greatly to not tell her friend of the horror this curse would bestow, she felt it best to not leave with such bad tidings.

With one last embrace, Belle left the hut. Pulling her hood back over her head, Belle wandered down the path, stopping suddenly when she saw her old home. It sat abandoned, run down, and even shabbier than Belle remembered it. She felt drawn to it and approached the door. With a firm push, it gave way, and Belle stumbled inside.

It was empty, she noticed instantly. All the items that had once filled their home were gone. The precious treasures she knew were safely stored away at the castle. As for the other items, the bed, table, and chairs, they were missing. No doubt taken by others when it became apparent that the previous tenants would not be returning. Belle walked along the room, the only light from the window and the holes that were now in the walls. She felt a wave of nostalgia, and thought back to nights by the fire, reading and playing with her son. She thought of time spent teaching Rumplestiltskin how to read, and she thought of their wedding night. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. It had been so long since she'd been with her husband. She was again reminded that he did not yet have a way to prevent his curse from breaking. She understood where his priorities lay, but she missed him.

But there would be time for that, she reasoned. There would be time for everything.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening once more. She whirled around half-afraid, only to blink in surprise when she saw the familiar faces of Anna and Morraine.

They glanced between themselves, then back at Belle.

"You're back!" They both cried, and rushed to her. Belle was knocked backwards from the force of their embrace. She collapsed to her knees, bringing the girls with her and wrapped them in her arms.

"Oh, girls," Belle sighed, holding them tightly. It was almost like holding Bae; they'd been inseparable, the three of them and it was almost as if he were there.

The girls pulled away, all three of them in tears. "Where have you been?" Anna asked as she wiped at her eyes.

"We left," Belle explained, "Of course that much is clear, I'm sure."

Morainne looked at Belle with eyes full of hope, "Is Bae-" she sniffed, not daring to finish her question. It was with great sorrow that Belle shook her head.

"No, sweetheart. He's still gone."

Hope dimmed in Morainne's eyes. Belle pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her brow. "We're looking," she breathed against her, "And we won't stop until we find him."

"Rumplestiltskin has magic," Anna said, "I watched him. Can't he use his magic?"

Belle shook her head and busied herself playing with the girl's hair. "Magic is...complex," she said carefully, "More than I could ever attempt to explain. He's looking for a way, but it's…..not easy."

If she couldn't tell Agda about the curse, she certainly couldn't tell these two girls. At any rate, she was still determined to find an alternate path to her son, and there was no use in worrying them when she was convinced the curse would not actually be cast.

Belle stood and pulled the girls up, marveling at how they'd grown. Anna was taller than her, probably closer to Rumplestiltskin's height, and seemed to show no sign of stopping. Morainne was still short, though she had filled out considerably in her waist and chest.

"Look at you both," Belle said, feeling motherly affection toward them both. "You're so lovely, and I'm sure as strong and sharp as ever."

The girls traded grins, and Morainne nodded. "We're helping some of the younger children learn to read," she said, "We wanted to carry on the tradition."

"And we say a prayer every night to the gods that Bae will come home," Anna added, "We keep a candle lit for him."

Overcome with love, Belle pulled the girls to her and hugged them tight. "Thank you," she said.

After a moment, she added, curious, "How did you know I was here?"

Morainne smiled, "I saw you enter town. When you went to Agda's I grabbed Anna, and we waited to see what you were doing."

"It's Bae's birthday," Belle acknowledged, though she was certain the girl's knew that. "I wanted to celebrate him."

"Where are you now?" Anna asked curiously.

Belle led them outside the door. She pointed to the mountains, far off in the distance. "There," she said slyly, "In a castle far away from anyone else. Rumple has all kinds of magic there; magic he's going to use to one day reach Bae."

"It sounds wonderful," Morainne sighed, "I'd love to live in a magic castle."

Anna shook her head. "Not me," she said, "I like it here."

Belle smiled at the taller girl. "So do I."

When she was ready to go, it was almost sunset. She'd spent a few hours with the girls catching up on lost time and was near tears as she bid Anna and Morainne good-bye. The thought of the curse her husband was preparing ripping away their memories weighed heavy, and Belle put on a brave face. She bid the girls goodbye, and promised to visit again soon. It was a promise she vowed to keep, no matter what. She reached the clearing where Rumple had left her and spoke his name aloud. A moment later he appeared, looking fearsome in his dark dragon hide and leather. But the softness of his gaze was a reassurance that all was well, and Belle welcomed his arms around her.

"Shall we, my lady?"

"I want to make one last stop," Belle said, and Rumple nodded, letting her pull him with her. Rumple realized where they were going not too long after, and squeezed Belle's hand reassuringly as they approached her father's grave. Belle knelt down before the headstone and smiled tearfully.

"Hello, Papa."

~000~

At length, Belle stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. Rumple, who had knelt down beside her, stood as well, and she nodded wordlessly that she was ready to leave. Rumple pulled her into his arms, and with a thought they were gone.

They reappeared in the library, and Rumple held Belle up until she no longer felt dizzy. She was not used to such travel, and the scant times she'd traveled that way it left her feeling sick. She recovered though, and moved to sit on the sofa. Rumple stood anxiously for a moment, then joined her.

"How was your day?" He asked, looking relieved at Belle's wistful smile.

"It was wonderful to see them again," she said, "I hadn't realized just how much I missed everyone."

"The time between visits will be shorter," he said, reaching across to take her hand. "I promise."

Belle hummed silently, then looked at Rumple questioningly. "The curse will take them too, won't it?"

"It will take everyone," Rumple said plainly. Belle bit her lip and let her mind wander to the thought of so many people losing themselves just for the sake of finding Baelfire. He wouldn't want it. He would be so upset if he knew what his father was planning - what his mother was allowing to happen.

"So what else have you discovered?" She asked at length, "About the curse?"

Rumplestiltskin waved a hand in dismissal. "That will come in time, my dear," he said as he motioned for her to follow him. She obeyed, and they walked in silence to Rumple's workroom. They entered and Rumple immediately went to a small cauldron that was bubbling over a fire. He stirred it, then reached out behind him and motioned for Belle to come forward. She did, and he stopped stirring long enough to turn to her. He smiled softly at her, reaching out to gently run his scaled hands over her cheeks before slipping into her hair. She closed her eyes at the gentle caress and let out a soft sigh. A moment later he pulled at her hair, and Belle cried out as he held a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. He laughed in that impish way that was entirely the Dark One, stepped back, and dropped it into the cauldron.

"What was that for?" Belle asked, lifting her hand to rub at the spot where he'd plucked the hair. He said nothing, instead picking up a thick cord of braided gold and swirling his magic about it, turning it into a ring. He dropped the ring into the cauldron next, then reached out to gently push Belle away from the table. Smoke rose and puffed out from the cauldron, then finally after a moment it settled and Rumple grabbed a pair of tongs and pulled the ring out of the liquid.

"Hold out your hand, sweetheart," he said absently. When Belle hesitated, he glanced at her in slight amusement. "It's not hot, I promise."

With his assurance, she held out her hand, and he let the ring drop. She stared at the gold band in her hand, similar to the one he'd given her. She glanced up at him and he smiled and offered her his hand. "Would you do the honors?"

She nodded, and her lips curled to form a grin before slipping the ring onto his finger. It brought to mind the night he's slipped her band onto her finger. She glanced at the simple gold band, still resting where he'd placed it – it had never occurred to her to remove it, even when she hadn't been able to stand the sight of her husband. She turned her attention back to Rumple's ring, watching as he made a face as it slid into place.

Belle frowned. "So what did I just do?"

In lieu of a reply, Rumple grasped her head again and pulled her close for a kiss. Belle immediately tried to pull back, but Rumple kept a firm grip on her. After a moment, she stopped resisting and only then did he let her go. When he stepped back, Belle looked at him curiously but he paid her no mind, instead looking at his hand while smiling brilliantly in triumph. "It worked," he whispered in amazement, then glanced up at Belle, who was watching him expectantly.

"You're not changing," She observed. Rumple smiled and stepped forward, taking her hands in his.

"A protection spell," he said simply, "One that will keep so long as I wear this ring."

"What are you protecting yourself from exactly?" She asked curiously.

He chuckled, and leaned down to press a warm kiss against her hands. "I am protecting myself from you," he said as he rose up.

She grinned widely. "I can't break your curse now."

He nodded, clearly proud of her. "Exactly."

She laughed and threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to his in a hard kiss. He swept her up, holding her head in his hand as his lips meshed with hers, pressing and nipping eagerly as he walked her backwards toward the bookshelf. He pinned her to it, his body pressed against her as he devoured her lips with his own, kissing with a previously unrealized pent up desire. He'd needed her so desperately for so long, but the inability to have her because of his curse had been enough to quench any temptation that wasn't a simple and chaste kiss. Now he could have her – truly have his wife once more- and it seemed that realization was not lost on Belle either.

She broke away after a moment, and asked, "Wait, why did you need my hair?"

Rolling his eyes, Rumple kissed her again, murmuring against her mouth, "Doesn't matter. Just let me kiss you."

Belle made a noise that he took as an agreement, and without another word, transported them to Belle's bedchamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ring protection spell is based off the episode where Rumple gives Snow a protection spell that ensures Regina cannot harm her.
> 
> We're moving along! There will be 50 total chapters, with chapter 50 being the epilogue.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support. It means the world to me! And thank you to my beats, as usual!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	42. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are some things that must be set into motion first. It's going to be a delicate and complicated situation."

42\. Wait

Belle awoke to the strange sensation of something holding onto her tightly. She squirmed, then opened her eyes when she felt the grip on her tighten. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced down to see the distinct greenish-gold of Rumplestiltskin's arm draped over her. She tilted her head back to look behind her, unable to prevent the smile as she took in the sight of her husband sleeping peacefully beside her. Another glance toward the window told her that it was still dark out, and though a part of her longed for nothing more than to lounge in bed curled up in her husband's arms, she knew there were more important things to be done.

Turning in his arms, Rumple stirred at the disturbance. His eyes opened slowly, and he offered her a sleepy grin.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Rumple closed his eyes for another long moment, and Belle took the opportunity to study him. She wondered if those he made deals with found him repulsive, or if they were too afraid to notice her husband's appearance. She remembered being in a similar position, studying his features while he slept, and it was a comfort to her that she had never once found him disgusting. She missed the human looking man she had fallen in love with, but there was something quite appealing about the scale-like skin and the glittering shimmer that reflected off him. His eyes too, she thought as she poked his side in an effort to see them, were stunning. His eyelids lifted and she was granted with the sight of the blackness that now looked back at her curiously. They were lovely, and so expressive, she thought as she lifted her hand to brush her fingers over his face. Rumple did nothing, merely let her explore.

"I like you like this," she said softly, nodding her head against the pillow as though it were a decision to be made.

Rumple scoffed, "I'm not sure what there is to like," he said, "But all the same I'm glad you're pleased."

Belle knew Rumple was not entirely pleased with his appearance as she was. He'd never thought himself particularly handsome, and now with the curse, she knew what little self-esteem he had was truly squashed. He pretended otherwise, to be sure, but Belle had never been fooled by the showman that sometimes tried to make himself known to her. Belle saw through that. She knew Rumple, and she knew that he'd never truly wanted to stand out. He'd been set apart his entire life because of his heritage, his injury, and his magic. He hadn't been meant to blend in, no matter how much he tried to remain invisible to the world. He could no more hide now than he could then, with the responsibilities of the Dark One resting on his shoulders. They may have been self-imposed, but if there was one thing she knew about her husband it was that he dedicated to whatever he set himself to. He'd vowed to find their son, and he was going to tear the world apart to do it.

That made her stomach sink. To think, innocent people such as Agda, Morainne, and Anna would suffer because of their mistake made Belle feel uneasy. She wanted her son back more than anything, but she wondered how Rumplestiltskin was reconciling the fact that he was going to be potentially separating families in the process.

That was something Belle didn't understand though. How exactly was this curse going to work? She knew the basics, but she didn't quite know everything. It might be wise to sit him down and explain everything to her. Otherwise he would keep her ignorant of it all; not because he didn't value her opinion, but because he was so afraid she would find him monstrous

Rumple stirred again, and Belle vowed she'd work to get answers out of him. He leaned up to press his lips to hers, and she sighed. She'd get answers later.

He pulled her to him, rubbing his fingers down her bare back absently. It was pleasant, but Belle knew it had to remain short-lived. They had too much to do.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, pressing a kiss to her temple. Belle nodded.

"Very well."

"Good."

They lay there for a while, content to rest on each other. At length, Belle grew restless, and Rumple let her go reluctantly. He watched as she gathered her clothing off the floor, smirking as she met his eyes with a furious blush painted on her cheeks.

"Oh, hush," she said, throwing her petticoats at him, laughing when they landed on his head. Rumple pulled them away, leaving his hair sticking up further than sleep had left it, and he glowered playfully.

"You're not getting these back."

Belle 'hmphed' and turned away, deciding to ignore her husband, and feeling extremely silly as she feigned being mad while completely nude. She opened her wardrobe and stared, making a great show of picking out a dress for the day. A moment later she felt arms wrap around her, and she settled into the warmth of her husband's embrace.

"The pink one," he said softly, and Belle reached for it almost by instinct. Pulling it out of the wardrobe, she smiled as she took in a replica of her signature blue dress, this one a warm pink instead of cool blue that Rumple seemed to favor for her.

"Go," she instructed, "And I'll change."

A kiss was pressed to her cheek, and then she felt the chill of the air prick her skin as his warmth retreated from her. She shivered, then turned and said, "Rumple."

He turned, and Belle felt positively ridiculous standing there naked. Rumple was no more clothed than her, and she found she was having a hard time concentrating. Lowering her eyes to focus on the dress, she cleared her throat and continued, "I'd like to talk to you today," she said cautiously, "About the curse."

She chanced a glance at Rumple and saw him tense. But despite his resistance, he nodded. "I'll tell you whatever I can."

Belle nodded. It would have to be enough.

~000~

Belle sat in the library with several tomes of magical study surrounding her. She and Rumple had parted ways to continue their work, and so far Belle had found nothing but frustration and a headache. She dropped the book to the ground and rubbed her temples, wishing that she could just find _something_. Crossing her legs, she bent forward, resting her head on the book she had just set down. It felt good to change position, and she groaned as her back popped as she stretched it out.

Something warm covered her, and Belle lifted her head to see Rumple stepping around her. She tugged at the blanket he'd just placed around her shoulders with a grin and watched as Rumple mimicked her position on the floor. Two cups of tea floated in front of him, and Belle arched an eyebrow at the display. Rumple said nothing, instead took both cups in his hand and offered her one. She took it gratefully, the hot surface warming her stiff, chilled hands.

"Taking a break?" She asked, and Rumple shook his head.

"Not so much a break as simply giving up before I destroy the entire castle."

Belle took a sip of tea. "I take it you're frustrated too, then."

Rumple nodded. "Frustrated doesn't even begin to cover it."

"Magic is….quite complicated, isn't it?"

Rumple laughed dryly. "That's one way to put it, my dear."

Belle smiled, then groaned as the throbbing in her head returned violently. At Rumple's concerned gaze, she pointed to her head. "It hurts."

Rumple said nothing, but leapt to his feet and walked over to a shelf behind her. Belle turned and watched as Rumple browsed through several vials until he found what he was looking for. He returned to Belle and knelt down and poured a small amount of the red liquid into her tea.

The tea fizzled, then smoked for a moment before settling back down and looking as unsuspicious as before. Belle regarded the drink, then eyed her husband. "Poisoning me?"

The look of horror that crossed his face was worth the pain caused from Belle cackling. "I'm teasing," she said, reaching out to touch his knee, "Though I would like to know what you're feeding me."

Rumple seemed to relax once he realized she didn't truly expect him to harm her. It bothered Belle to know that he was so fearful of actually hurting her that he couldn't even take a joke. With how dreadful and tense things had been over the past year, they needed a few laughs.

"It's a headache potion," Rumple replied, standing only long enough to place the vial on a table nearby. He returned to his original position across from her and motioned for Belle to drink. "I've mastered many of the simpler potions," he explained, "It's just tedious work gathering all the ingredients."

Belle sipped her tea, surprised when she tasted nothing but lemon and honey. "What's in this one?"

Rumple grimaced and shook his head. "You really don't want to know."

Belle made her own face of disgust, but she could already tell the potion was working. Her head was feeling clearer already, and if it worked this quickly, Belle decided she'd rather just not know. Ignorance could be the best course in very few instances, and Belle felt this was one such time.

With a clearer head, Belle felt renewed and eager to continue her work, but Rumple seemed nervous and twitchy. It was a sign he wanted to talk, but didn't quite know how to go about saying what needed to be said. Suddenly uninterested in getting back to work, Belle marked her place in the book and scooted closer toward Rumple.

"What is it?" She asked.

He glanced around, looking anywhere but at her, then finally relented with a sigh.

"You wanted to know more about the curse."

Belle nodded. "Yes."

"Well, it's best to tell you before I lose my nerve."

Nodding, Belle took Rumple's hand in hers and began to rub his knuckles encouragingly. "Go on."

Rumple shut his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he looked resolved and ready to speak.

"As you already know," he began, "The curse requires the sacrifice of the thing the caster loves most."

Belle nodded, trying not to let Rumple see the shiver that coursed over her.

"I don't know who that person is for Regina," Rumple said, "But I know that she wants to cast the curse more than anything."

"But you said she doesn't know everything."

Rumple nodded. "She doesn't know what is required to cast the curse. But she's made a deal with me that cannot be broken."

"What was the deal?"

"That she would cast the curse no matter what."

Belle's eyes widened. "So you tricked her into something she doesn't fully understand."

Rumple looked down, and Belle was torn between anger and sorrow at the look on his face. Rumple was clearly ashamed of what he'd done.

"I did."

"She's a desperate soul, then."

Rumple looked up amused. "You remember that."

She nodded. "We were both desperate. And I can hardly forget what that awful man said to trick you into taking the dagger."

"I'm not much better than he was."

"I want to agree," Belle admitted, ignoring the look on Rumple's face. "But…you're doing it for Bae and I…I cannot fault you for doing whatever it takes, but it's wrong and I just-"

Belle lifted her hands to her head, squeezing slightly to relieve the pressure that was slowly starting to return. "I'm so confused. I don't know what to think."

She heard Rumple move, then felt herself being pulled back against him. He had positioned himself behind her, and was now holding her between his legs while he rubbed his hands on her arms in an effort to comfort and console.

"There's a catch to all this, though, that might ease your mind."

Belle laughed bitterly. "And what's that?"

"The curse is going to be broken."

Belle turned to look at him skeptically. "Why cast it if it's just going to break?"

"Because we don't need the curse to find Bae," Rumple explained, "We only need the curse to get to the world."

Understanding began to dawn on Belle. "So once we get there, we break the curse, then go find Bae."

At Rumple's look, Belle felt her brief relief fade. "There's a catch to the catch, isn't there."

"There's always a catch with me," Rumple sighed. "No one here will break the curse."

"Then who will?"

"A product of True Love."

Belle's eyes brightened. "We have True Love!"

Rumple looked at Belle, sorrow burning his eyes. "But we have no other children," he said sadly, lifting a hand to caress her face. It was something they had never even considered. With so much happening between their marriage, his departure to war, Bae's birth and Rumple's injury, talk of another child had never crossed their minds, let alone their lips. Even despite their intimate relationship, no other child had ever been conceived, and it was only in this moment that both Belle and Rumple anguished over the fact. Bae had been enough for so long. But now there was no time.

"We…..we could have one," Belle suggested feebly, though the thought didn't sound right at all. They were looking for their child. To bring another life into this family only to use it to find their firstborn would not be fair. If another child were to come of their union, Belle wanted it to be for no other reason than they wanted a second child. No child of hers would be a key to the other.

Rumple looked thoughtful. "It's….a possibility," he said at last, "Though I've had a vision."

"Of the future?"

He nodded. "I saw the child that broke the curse so we could find Bae."

"Who was it?"

Rumple shook his head. "All I know is that it's know our child," he said with a look of sadness. "It's the child of Regina's step-daughter and her husband."

"Who is her husband?"

"They haven't met yet."

Belle stared. "What?"

"Do not worry," Rumple said reassuringly, "I'm going to make sure they meet."

"You're playing matchmaker."

Rumple flushed. "I suppose so."

Shaking her head, Belle leaned back against Rumple. His arms wrapped around her, making Belle feel secure and safe.

"So they meet, fall in love, and have this special child who will break the curse."

"On her twenty-eighth birthday, yes."

Belle sat up and turned to face Rumple, looking affronted. "What!"

Wincing, Rumple reached out to clutch Belle's arms. "We'll be frozen. We won't notice the passage of time."

Belle stared at him, mouth agape. How could he think this was acceptable! Anger festered, and Belle felt the urge to scream. She took a deep breath, silently counted to ten, and then exhaled.

"We're going to be frozen for twenty-eight years," she repeated.

Rumple nodded.

"And this child," Belle continued, "Where will it be?"

Rumple opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it back shut. He blinked several times, then sheepishly looked up at Belle. "I don't know."

"So all you know," Belle said in a tone that was equally exasperated and confused, "Is that a child of the step-daughter of the woman casting the curse is _somehow_ going to break the curse that takes us to a land without magic twenty-eight years after it's cast."

When stated like that, Rumple saw how absolutely horrid the plan truly was. But it was all they had, and he wasn't going to stop because the outlook didn't seem favorable. He'd rather try and fail then to have never tried at all.

"That's the sum of it, yes," he said at last.

Belle dropped her head in her hands. "Oh gods," she sighed, "This is the worst idea you've ever had, Rumplestiltskin."

That stung, but it wasn't without truth. Rumple sat up on his knees and pulled Belle to him. "I know, sweetheart," he said, rubbing her back in an effort to sooth her, "But it's the _only_ way. We'll be together the entire time, I've made sure of that. We won't know any time has passed at all. One day we'll wake up, remember our purpose, and then we'll begin our search for him."

"We're upheaving the lives of an entire world on the hope that some child that isn't even born yet will break a curse cast by her- what? Grandmother?"

"Step-grandmother."

"Oh, close enough," Belle snapped. At feeling Rumple tense, she took a moment to calm herself.

"This is what we're doing," she asked, "We're really doing this."

Rumple nodded, his chin bumping her head.

"Bae will be older than me," Belle said with a sniffle. "My son will be in his forties before we find him."

"It's not ideal-"

"What if he forgets about us?" Belle asked suddenly, looking up at Rumple with panic in her eyes. "What if he decides twenty-eight years is too long to take to find him, and he won't forgive us? What if he has his own family?"

Rumple pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers in an effort to silence her. She slackened, and when Rumple was convinced she wouldn't melt into a panicked mess, he released her.

"I wrestle with the same thoughts," he said, "But we cannot let what if's stop us."

Belle nodded weakly, wiping at her eyes. "You're right," she sighed, then let out a breathy laugh. "Since when are you the sensible one?"

Rumple laughed. "I promise not to make a habit of it."

Belle smiled, then asked, "So when will the girl and her husband meet?"

"Snow White," Rumple said, "And not for a while yet. There are some things that must be set into motion first. It's going to be a delicate and complicated situation. But nothing that cannot be done."

Belle nodded, allowing herself a moment to let everything sink in. It was a lot to process, and she wasn't sure how she felt. She wasn't sure if she would ever be okay with what they were doing, but she couldn't abandon her son. That was simply not an option. There was still the hope of finding another way to the Land Without Magic, and Belle knew that she needed to work harder if she was going to find it before it was too late.

"So what do we do in the meantime," Belle asked softly, "Until everything is ready?"

Rumple lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "We do the hardest thing possible," he said grimly, "We wait."

_End Part Three_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more part to go! Seven more chapters left!
> 
> Thank you everyone so much for your continued support and kind words! I appreciate it so much!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters and rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	43. Another Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She felt she might cry, but shook away the tears. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, and so she instead yelled, "Rumplestiltskin! I need you!"

Part Four

Chapter 43: Another Way

Belle peeked into the work room, and when she saw that Rumple was alone, she swept in, her skirts flowing around her as she rushed inside. Rumple turned at the sound of her heels clicking on the floor and smiled at her, the previous malice and impish aloofness he'd been feeling gone.

"How did it go?" Belle asked, coming to stand by her husband.

"You already know," he said teasingly as he pulled her into his arms. "You were at the door the entire time."

Belle felt her cheeks redden and she huffed. "She's going to cast the curse, and you won't even let me meet her. I can't help but be curious."

Frowning, Rumple squeezed her a little tighter. "There's a reason I won't let you meet her."

"She's dangerous," Belle repeated, having heard the same excuse over the past two years that Regina had been making bi-annual visits to the castle. Belle didn't like having the woman intrude on her space, but Rumple felt if he didn't welcome her, she would grow suspicious, and the last thing they needed was a suspicious Evil Queen, as she had been deemed by her victims.

"And she might see you as a potential weakness," Rumple explained, "She's on the warpath to ruin Snow White. If she thinks I'm impeding on that in any way, she may try to use you to get to me."

"I can handle the Evil Queen," Belle said defiantly, and Rumple couldn't help but kiss her.

"Oh, I know," he whispered against her lips. "Trust me, my love, I know."

They stayed together for a long moment, content in the peace and quiet in the wake of Regina's departure. She was a loud woman, her voice carrying far beyond the door of the workroom. Belle was convinced she could have heard the woman's screeching in the kitchens.

She eventually stepped back from her husband, producing a folded letter and holding it out for him. "I didn't spend all my time eavesdropping," she said with a smug smile, "I also collected your mail."

Rumple took the letter, asking as he unfolded it, "Who is it from?"

"A strange man with a hat," Belle said, crossing her arms. "He said he was an associate of yours."

Lifting the parchment to hide his smirk, Rumple read the letter, unable to help the impish laugh that escaped him at the report.

"What is it?" Belle asked, reaching out to take the letter. Rumple pulled it out of her grasp her took her hand instead, pulling her back to him and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"It's beginning," Rumple said triumphantly. Belle tried to hide her disappointment.

"What is?"

"My source confirms that Snow White and her future husband have been introduced...through most interesting circumstances."

"Who is he?" Belle asked curiously, as she moved away to pick up the most recent text she'd been studying. Even after hundreds of books, tomes, and stacks of parchment, she'd yet to find an alternative. It grieved her to know she had failed, and that pain was more piercing today with the news that the catalyst they'd been waiting for had finally occurred.

She flipped idly to the place marked by a ribbon, listening half-heartedly as Rumple spoke, "Prince James."

Belle's head shot up. "Wait," she said in surprise, "I thought you helped James' father secure a marriage between him and King Midas' daughter?"

Rumple smirked. He'd been worried that telling Belle about all his deals that would ultimately lead to the casting and breaking of the curse would upset her too much, but Belle had surprised him by taking everything in stride. He knew she was increasingly upset over not finding something else, but there was nothing to be done for that. She'd tried, and that was what mattered.

"Clever wife," he praised, "You're correct. It seems however, that fate has other plans."

"Then why secure a different marriage when it was just meant to be broken?"

"They'd have never met otherwise."

Belle paused. "Oh."

"You seemed worried, dearest."

Belle shrugged. "Doesn't this mean that you didn't keep your deal though? If you secured a marriage that wasn't meant to happen?"

"Oh I kept my end of the deal," Rumplestiltskin said, his signature Dark One laugh slipping out. Normally when he was alone with Belle, he let the act go, but after several years of playing the impish trickster, sometimes it was difficult to drop the act. "It's not my fault that outside forces broke off the agreement. My deal was with _King George_ , and if this prince wants to run off with that bandit, then that's on him. I kept my deal."

"Technically it is your fault." She giggled as Rumple scowled. Ignoring him, she continued, "Besides, she's only a bandit because that queen of yours is a cruel, vengeful child."

"She's not my queen," Rumple responded tersely, "And of course she's being cruel. She's known as the Evil Queen now, which is _hardly_ my doing."

"You're encouraging her." It wasn't a complaint or an accusation. It was a fact, one that Rumple accepted without difficulty.

"She's necessary," Rumple said plainly, "I am hardly encouraging her to slaughter entire villages in an effort to find the little princess."

Belle gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Rumple winced. That had been the one detail he had chosen to leave out. He knew Belle's feelings on such things – he shared them – but he _needed_ Regina to walk this path. It wasn't a path he relished, and though he certainly didn't discourage her from her ways, he wasn't whispering the foul ideas in her ear either. He gave Belle a sympathetic look. "I know, sweetheart," he sighed, "I was appalled as well." And he had been. When Regina had bragged about the incident, it had taken every ounce of self-control Rumplestiltskin possessed not to lash out and rip her heart out and crush it in front of her eyes. Those people had been innocent, and while Rumple recognized the irony of being disgusted by Regina's actions while similarly planning to ruin the lives of families the world over, he wasn't _killing_ them. After twenty-eight years, the curse was to break, and send everyone but himself and Belle home. It would be a temporary disturbance. What Regina was doing was evil.

And he was no better for not putting a stop to it, a small voice whispered, but he pushed it aside. He was _nothing_ like Regina.

By the time he removed himself from his own dark thoughts, Belle had turned away and was seated at the work bench, nose buried in yet another spell book. Rumple sighed. He could tell she was angry, though he doubted her feelings were directed at him. It was the situation that was worthy of disgust; the circumstances surrounding this entire event were unpleasant and Rumple was sorry to put Belle through it all. But Rumple also knew he had too much to do to spend his time apologizing for his mistakes. He'd have a lifetime of that once he found his son. For now his time was better spent elsewhere.

He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Belle's head. She didn't say anything, merely reached up and absently patted his cheek before turning the page of her book. With a soft smile, Rumple stepped away and left her to her work. After two years of failure, she continued to search through every book he presented to her, and her determination impressed Rumplestiltskin. She truly was an amazing woman.

With a shake of his head, he turned and silently exited the room. There would be time to admire his wife later, he thought. For now, he had to ensure a certain couple fell in love.

~000~

The days went on, and Rumple kept his eye close on Snow White and her prince – who'd apparently been dubbed 'Charming' by the bandit-princess. It was a delicate situation at best; Snow White and her prince were falling in love, but outside circumstances were making it hard for them to be together. Rumple watched, but did not interfere, afraid to do too much and upset the balance that had been struck. He didn't want to mess anything up, and teetered between letting fate handle things, and pushing them along himself.

He needed them in love, married, and with child. He felt like a voyeur intruding on their life, but their child was important – necessary – and he couldn't help but meddle just a little. It was harmless meddling, nothing major or invasive. At any rate, it wasn't as if he could _make_ them fall in love. There were certain laws to magic, and making others fall in love was one of the few things magic could not do. A small part of him was glad of that. Some things needed to be off limits. The ability to control love would indeed be a powerful weapon, more powerful even than the essence of True Love.

But he was not in need of True Love. He glanced across the room to where Belle was sitting, flipping the page of her book with one hand and scribbling down notes with the other. He watched her a moment, the familiar warmth of his love for her filling him to the brim. He had True Love at his fingertips, a delightful and dangerous thing. The ring he wore kept the power Belle held over him at bay, but he had to admit it was tempting to just pull the ring off and kiss his wife. He was tired, he realized, and whereas before he'd been so afraid of a life without the magic he possessed, he was starting to look with longing toward a future where they could be a simple family again. No more magic, no more deals.

Of course he loved his power. It was a true gift, and something he had come to rely on heavily. But he recalled the cost of that power, and knew his son was worth more than all the power in the world. _Just until I reach you, Bae,_ he thought wistfully, _then I'll fulfill my end of our deal, as I should have done long ago. I promise._

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sensation of being summoned. Someone wanted to see him, and he could practically feel the desperation crawling in his veins. He shut his eyes, shivering as the feeling rushed over him, and when he opened his eyes he saw Belle watching him carefully.

"You're being summoned."

She had quickly grown used to certain things regarding magic. She rarely used it, save for heating her water and lighting fires, but she was sensitive to its presence. Rumple was grateful for this, and hoped that should any of the enemies he made over time ever try anything, she would be sensitive to any magic they had and stay away. He then wondered briefly if she only recognized his magic through some sort of bond held together by their True Love. It was an interesting theory, one he'd very much like to test, but someone needed him, and he needed to go.

"I am, sweetheart," he acknowledged, stepping over to her and taking her hands in his, "But I'll be as quick as I can, I promise."

She nodded and tugged him down to her and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Be safe."

He grinned in that mischievous way that was purely the Dark One. "I always am." He disappeared a moment later, leaving Belle alone with her research.

~000~

Belle let her head drop to the desk with a thud. Groaning, she sat back up and stretched, wishing that magic were much easier to understand. "But I suppose if everyone could do it, it wouldn't be all that wondrous," she mused aloud. She stood, groaning again as her back popped.

She marked her place and shut the tome, deciding she would go stretch out on her chaise in the library and read something dull and easy to understand. She needed to give her mind a break, and a dull book sounded like just the thing. After over two years of constant searching and reading, Belle was tired. A small part of her wanted to never see a book ever again, but she banished that thought quickly. She never wanted to see a book on magic ever again. After so much time spent digging for something, and finding nothing useful, Belle just wanted to give up. She wouldn't, but her mind was full of strange ingredients, spells, and all the uses of unicorn blood.

Who knew it could do so much?

Deciding that she hadn't really enjoyed all her library had to offer, what with her position as official researcher, Belle decided to indulge for a few hours on a book that contained _no_ hint of magic. She made her way to the library, noticing vaguely as she passed one of the large arched windows that it was growing dark. Rumple hadn't been gone a while, an hour at most but she sighed as she wished for his return. "Maybe if I'm desperate enough he'll show up," she said with a giggle. Rumple had explained to her that he could sense desperation when people summoned him, and it was the most desperate he felt the strongest. She shook her head dismissively. She wasn't going to summon her husband. He'd be home soon enough.

When she reached the library, she walked around the shelves, lazily trailing her fingers along the spines of books as she went. If there was one thing she was truly grateful for from this whole situation, it was her library. No amount of books would ever come close to easing the ache of losing her son, but she was so grateful that Rumple had taken the time to do this for her. It was the most romantic gesture, and she couldn't pick up a book without thinking of how much effort her husband had put into this room, just for her. She smiled at the thought of Bae's reaction to it too, and vowed that when they were a family again, she would make sure she and Bae had the largest library possible.

She skimmed some titles, finally settling on a book about botany. It was dull and uninteresting, and just the thing Belle needed to ease her aching mind. She had meant to take up gardening while here, but again, her plans had been upheaved by her decision to find an alternative to the Horrible Curse, as she called it. Maybe she could have a garden in this new world, where she could pass the time she would be unaware of elbow deep in dirt and flowers. That was a pleasant thought, and she made a mental note to mention it to Rumple.

It was a strange thought, knowing soon she would have no memory of this place, or of her life. As Rumple explored more of the curse, the more he told her, and it was a bit frightening to think that she would know her husband as someone else entirely. He would be a different man in this world; they would be different people, their current lives and memories locked away until some child grew up and came to save them all somehow.

It was disturbing to say the least, and filled Belle with anxiety to think about. Her stomach fluttered, and she felt momentarily sick. She shut her eyes and leaned back, forcing herself to think about something else, and at length her stomach settled to the point where she felt she might be alright.

Deciding the best course of action would be to read, she flipped open to the beginning and started to read. It truly was a boring book, and it eased Belle's mind to focus on the care of various plants. The author took care to write about the history, myths, and care of each plant and flower, and Belle found it oddly fascinating that so much could be said about the subject.

She read about the meaning of flowers, the uses of various leaves and bushes, and a lengthy essay on the 'science of the anatomy of plants differing by realm'. By the time she finished that particular piece, she was convinced someone had dedicated themselves far too completely to studying plant life.

But it gave her something to do, and therefore she wasn't going to complain.

Tired of reading about shrubbery, Belle flipped several pages until she came to a chapter dedicated to exotic plant life. "Well, maybe _this_ will be more interesting," she said through a yawn.

She read several pages, eyes starting to slip shut when something caught her attention. She blinked and sat up, flipping back a page to read again. When she reached the last part, she leapt to her feet and held the book out in front of her. "Oh gods," she breathed, then said it again.

"Oh gods!"

She felt chills cover her, despite the warm eagerness that made her stomach twist and turn. She felt she might cry, but shook away the tears. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, and so she instead yelled, "Rumplestiltskin! I need you!"

~000~

Rumple appeared with a small puff of smoke, looking around in alarm. He relaxed momentarily when he saw Belle, safe and free from any harm. But she looked strange, a nervous energy radiating off her as she stared in awe down at a book she was holding. She'd called for him, and he'd sensed her urgency, but now she didn't even notice his presence. Something odd was going on.

He said her name, and she looked up, frantic and disheveled, and she rushed to him, shoving the book into his hands and motioning in a manner that reminded him of himself.

"Read," she demanded."

He quirked an eyebrow, then glanced down at the book in his hands. "Botany? Are you that bored?"

"Shut up and read." She pointed to a specific section, and Rumple bent his head to read. A few moments later, his head lifted, staring at Belle with disbelief, while she returned his gaze, full of hope and anticipation.

"Did I do it?"

He stared at her, then looked down and reread the page. When he looked up again, his eyes were full of tears and he threw the book down in favor of taking her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

"Belle," he smiled, cupping her face, her tears wetting his fingers. His own tears began to fall, but he paid them no mind. "My brilliant wife. You did it. You found another way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson will not be making another appearance, unfortunately. But I wanted to at least mention him.
> 
> So, Belle has discovered another way in lieu of the Dark Curse! Now, we just did another time jump from the previous chapter, so it's basically taken her over two years to find this alternative route. Go Belle!
> 
> The next chapter may be delayed a day or so. I'm going out of town this weekend so I may not be able to update until Saturday or Sunday. We'll see.
> 
> If you want to read more of my Rumbelle fics, please feel free to visit my Tumblr page: woubazoid.tumblr.com I don't think you have to be a member of Tumblr to view my page.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	44. Overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle felt the sting of his coldness, but instead of allowing her feelings to be hurt, she took a moment to consider what he was doing. It was part of his act, not to show affection toward her in front of others. It was that misguided desire to protect her. He was playing the part of the Dark One.

Chapter 44: Overboard

Rumple and Belle sat side by side on the chaise reading the page once more. Belle gripped Rumple's arm in her hands, and rested her chin on his shoulder, reading silently along with him.

_The Elder Tree is believed to hold magical properties, among which include: Healing fatal wounds, mixing the leaves to create varying potions to cure such ailments as hysteria, scarlet fever, the consumption, and others. It also contains magical properties to allow transportation to other worlds, even those some sorcerers believe to be void of magic._

_However the Elder Tree, is rare, and there have only been a few accounts of sighting such a tree. They are ancient, believed to have once been prosperous in previous centuries, though the belief of their magic caused most of the supposed trees to be cut down in an attempt to harvest their magic._

_The Elder Tree is believed to have grown in the West._

Belle waited a moment, then glanced at Rumple. "Have you ever heard of this tree?"

Rumple shook his head, curly hair swaying back and forth. "No," he said softly, "There's still so much about magic I don't know."

"Do you think it's worth going after?" Belle asked, toying with the sleeve of her husband's shirt.

"It's about as solid a plan as the curse," Rumple reasoned, "More so, I'd wager, since we wouldn't be relying on anyone but ourselves."

"How would we even use the tree?" Belle asked, "The book only says that it _can_ be used, but not how."

Shrugging, Rumple flipped through a few pages, looking for any additional information. For a book that had spent so much time on some truly bland subjects, it was quite lacking on the one subject that truly mattered.

"I suppose we find a way to harvest the magic," Rumple guessed. "I really haven't a clue."

Belle turned, her face lit up with excitement. "So we're going to go after it?"

Belle's question was met with silence. She watched as Rumplestiltskin regarded the page for a long while. She could tell he was torn; the curse was well underway, but this prevented anyone else from being hurt by their mission to reunite with their son. It was true they didn't know what to do with the tree, but they equally had no idea if the curse would pay off in the long run. Twenty-eight years was a long time to wait for a child who might arrive and somehow break the curse. There was too much risk, and Belle knew Rumple understood that.

Finally, he answered her, his voice soft and uncertain. "Yes. We'll go after it."

Letting out a squeal, Belle flung her arms around Rumple, thanking him as she squeezed him in her excitement. He laughed and pulled her onto his lap holding her tightly as she wiggled and bounced in her happiness.

"But I'm not giving up on the curse."

Belle sobered instantly. "But I thought-"

Rumple held up a hand to silence her. "Regina's involved," he explained. "When it was just us, there would have been no issue with dropping the curse and moving onto a new plan. But now that a third party has been introduced – a dangerous one at that – I can't just renege on the deal. I'll have to play it carefully, but work will still have to be done to show the Queen I'm making progress."

On his lap, Belle seemed to deflate, her dismay shadowing her features as she listened. Feeling guilt at her reaction, Rumple gently ran his hand over her thigh. "But we are most certainly going to go after this tree."

That made Belle's features brighten once more, though they didn't hold the same exuberance she'd previously expressed. Rumple understood that Belle had secretly hoped all aspects of the curse would be abandoned if she succeeded. It had been Rumple's intention too, until he'd been unable to delay any longer. They were still a long time away from finding their son, but perhaps this tree might speed up the process. Regardless, he had a reputation and a deal to maintain. And while he was perfectly fine with breaking this one deal, he wasn't interested in doing it until he and Belle were safely on their way to a world in which Regina couldn't follow. The curse would be left unfinished, and as much as Rumple was struggling to put the pieces together, he felt secure that Regina would not be able to finish the work he started.

"In fact," Rumple said, lifting Belle and standing to his feet, "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Tomorrow!"

Placing his wife on the floor, Rumplestiltskin said, "The sooner we find it, the sooner we get to Bae."

She clapped her hands together in excitement bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "This is so exciting!" Belle exclaimed, "We're going to find Bae!"

Smiling, Rumple ushered his wife toward the door. "And you have preparations to make," he said matter-of-fact, "Go pack. There's a trunk in your room that will hold everything you put in it no matter weight or size."

Belle glanced back with a raised brow, but Rumple continued to move her toward the door. "Go on," he said, "The sooner you're ready, the sooner we'll be on our way. "

"And what are you doing while I pack?" Belle asked, turning and crossing her arms playfully.

"Making my own preparations," he said, tapping her nose with his finger. "Now off with you."

She laughed and spun, rushing out the door and toward her bedroom to begin packing for their trip. Once she was gone, Rumple shut the door, locked it, then slid to the floor with a weary sigh.

~000~

Rumplestiltskin was worried. He couldn't deny that he was elated that Belle had found something else. He'd known she would, and it was a relief to know he'd been right. However, now there were many things to take into consideration. What if the tree turned out to be only a myth? It was highly unlikely that it was untrue, but they were going to be traveling through forests looking for one tree out of thousands. He had no idea how they were going to find the tree, and even then, what would they do if they discovered it? Pull it out of the ground and bring it back to the castle? Rumple shook his head at the silly thought, though he could come up with no other option.

Additionally, he was uncertain about what to do with the curse, and the events he'd orchestrated that would lead to its eventual casting. Snow White and her Prince were in each other's thoughts now, something that Regina was displeased with. Rumple had assured her it was all part of the plan; if she wanted Snow to suffer the most, Snow needed to have everything she'd ever wanted before it was all ripped from her. It had bought him time, but Regina was not a patient woman.

There was also the issue of the child. Should he somehow try to encourage the two lovers to have a child, in the event the curse was still needed? Rumple pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and whimpered. The child was key to the curse, to finding his own son, but there was the problem of ensuring that the child was created. Rumplestiltskin let out a groan. There were so many things that could go wrong, it was hard to keep track.

No doubt Regina would stop at nothing until Snow White was defeated and her happiness stripped form her. It pained Rumple to think he would be abandoning the girl to a lifetime of running from her stepmother, which he was certain would happen should this tree actually work. Regina was relentless, like her mother apparently had been. Rumple shivered as he thought of the woman who had captured the attention and lust of the previous Dark One. She had to have been truly be wicked in order to make a Dark One of Zoso's nature enraptured, and Rumplestiltskin felt a moment's relief that some memories were more difficult to access than others. He didn't want to think of his predecessor and this vicious woman together.

Cringing again, Rumple turned his thoughts back to the problem at hand. Belle had found a way, and now the plan he'd been so careful to unfold was about to be completely shelved. He felt sick, and fear began to grow at the thought that this was just a massive waste of time. Shaking his head, Rumple rebuked those thoughts. The last time he'd doubted his family, he'd lost them. He would trust in Belle, trust that this tree would be their way. Everything else would have to sort itself out in time.

Standing to his feet, Rumple moved over to the work bench and cleared off some space before producing a large map of the realm. He summoned the botany book to him, then began to map out a path they would follow in their search for the Elder Tree.

It would require a few weeks' worth of travel, and Rumple used a mirror to locate several inns in which they could stay, and marked them on the map. If the slight information in the book was anything to go by, it would take several days to reach the west lands, and then who knew how long to locate the particular tree. They'd have to work quickly, as Rumple didn't want to waste time traipsing through the woods, but now that he at least had a plan in the works, he felt relieved.

It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, he recalled the spinsters who raised him saying. But stranger things had happened, Rumple reasoned. All the more reason to believe the tree would be found.

~000~

That night as Belle slept, Rumple found himself wide awake with a new set of fears: Once they made it to the world, what would become of them? Rumple reasoned that they would have to take some things with them on the journey, though he hardly knew what. Gold would be a must. He assumed the new world would use gold as a currency, though he wasn't positive in that. It was maddening, not knowing anything about where he was going, and it terrified him to think that he would be walking into a new world without magic or a clue. His powers would be gone, which would restore his old wound. That was something he did not look forward to, but it was a small price to pay for finding his boy.

Belle stirred at his side, and he looked down to see her blinking up at him sleepily.

"What's wrong?" She asked, voice thick from her half-awakened state. Rumple leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Nothing," he whispered, "Go back to sleep, dearest. We have a long road ahead of us."

Belle shook her head and pushed herself up to a seated position.

"You're worrying," she said through a yawn, "What's wrong?"

With a shake of his head, Rumple replied, "Just worrying in general," he said, and it wasn't entirely untrue. "Overthinking things, as usual."

Belle offered a look of understanding and hugged him. "We'll figure it all out in time," she said reassuringly, "I'll carry you and you'll carry me, remember?"

Rumple nodded. "I do."

Belle pulled him they were lying down. "Then get some sleep," she chided gently, "We have a long road ahead of us."

With a small chuckle, Rumple agreed, and though sleep didn't come easily, it eventually came.

~000~

The next morning, Rumple readied the carriage while Belle hauled the trunk down the stairs and out the door. It was heavy, filled with things she thought they might need. She'd never gone on such a journey before, and as such had no idea what to pack. She'd over prepared, figuring it was best to be safe rather than sorry.

Once the horses were set, Rumple stepped back for a moment, observing the open carriage. They would be traveling for quite some time, and the open wagon would not do. Belle would need privacy, warmth, and comfort, none of which the current carriage offered. With a wave of his hand the carriage transformed into an elaborate stagecoach, fit for a queen. The red metal had stretched and rearranged itself so that they were completely surrounded. The door contained a large round window with a bright, patterned curtain that could be pulled down for total privacy. The seats on the inside were cushioned and widened so that they would rest more comfortably as they traveled the long, bumpy roads. Additionally, Rumple had added small floating candles on the inside, powered by the same magic that governed the sconces inside the castle. It was as comfortable as he could make it, and he hoped it would meet with Belle's approval.

Turing, Rumple jumped, surprised to see Belle standing before him, her hair dischevled and face glistening with sweat. She looked tired but thrilled and asked as she pointed to the stagecoach, "Is that ours?"

Rumple nodded and stepped forward to lift the trunk off the ground. He grunted at the weight and dropped it. "What the devil is in here?"

Belle shrugged. "Clothing for both of us. A couple bags of gold. Some food and a few flasks of water." She nodded to the basked on her arm, "This has some additional food as well."

"It feels as though you stuffed this thing full of rocks."

Belle flushed. "I may have also packed a couple books."

Giving her a dry look, Rumple asked, "How many is 'a couple'?"

"Twelve?"

Rumple blanched. "Why are you bringing twelve books?"

"Because I don't know how long we'll be gone," she stated, "And I'd like to be able to pass the time."

"We're going to be looking for a tree," Rumple said, "You can't look if you're reading."

"You said it would take several days to get anywhere near where the tree might be," she countered, "And when we stop for the night, we won't be looking." She huffed and crossed her arms, "I'm not unpacking my books, so there's no point in arguing."

"We're not arguing!" Rumple declared instantly, then paused. "Are we?"

Belle laughed and pressed a kiss to his nose. "No, we're not." She brushed past him and motioned to the carriage, "Let's go!"

With a roll of his eyes, Rumple lifted the trunk and strapped it down to the top of the stagecoach. Once it was secured, he hopped inside, shut the door, and sat back.

"So where did we get this," Belle asked, gesturing to the coach. Rumple smirked. Of course she would question the appearance of their vehicle.

"I transformed it from the old one," he explained.

Belle raised a brow at him, but said nothing. She still didn't quite approve of magic – or rather, his abundant use of it - but she seemed to be more lenient these days. Magic was a part of their life, and while Belle was vocal about her reluctance to use magic for so many things, she'd also relented and admitted that it had its uses. She was fond of the kitchen and the fact that none of the food seemed to go bad. She liked the convenience of hot water, and the ease of not having to manually light a fire every time she entered a room. Magic had its uses, and Belle had found the few she valued, and had kept it at that. While Rumple was better about using his magic so thoughtlessly, he was still quite liberal in his use. He understood the price that had to be paid, and he had long ago decided that he would pay it. Once they made it to the new world, his magic would be stripped from him anyway, so it hardly mattered if he allowed himself to enjoy it while it lasted.

It was still strange to think about, becoming a normal man again. Rumple equally dreaded and anticipated it, and hoped that when the day came for him to relinquish his curse, he would be able to do it without hesitation.

"Are you ready?" He asked and she nodded. Rumple waved his hand and the horses, who had been snorting and stamping their feet impatiently, began to move. They were on their way. Belle peaked out of the window to watch the towering castle that had been her home disappear as they rode farther away from it. She sighed, slumped back against her seat and looked at Rumple.

"Here we go," she said softly. He nodded in response.

"May this outing fare us better than the previous one."

Belle stifled a giggle as she thought back to the fiasco with the thief. She was grateful for what had happened that day. The man had saved his love, and she and Rumplestiltskin had started to mend their own marriage. It had been quite a fruitful outing, though not in the way Rumplestiltskin had originally planned.

"So how long do you think it will take?" Belle asked at length, the silence quickly making her drowsy, "To find the tree?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "It will be some time, I imagine," Rumple said, "We must go west, but we don't know how far west. We'll make some inquiries, but we must be careful about that. The Elder Tree is legend, but people may still believe in it. If anyone suspected our purpose, they may try to lead us astray."

"And take it for themselves," Belle added and Rumplestiltskin nodded.

"Exactly."

They rode for several hours. Much of that time was spent talking about the past year, and everything that had led up to the present. It amazed Belle how little she had truly known her husband, whereas he could see right through her. He opened up and told her more about his childhood and the spinsters who raised him. Belle vaguely remembered the women, who died when she was just a small girl. Rumple spoke of them fondly, and Belle wondered what had happened between her and Rumple that they'd never truly sat down and gotten to know each other.

When she voiced her question, Rumple shook his head, at a loss as well. "I've no idea, to be honest," he said, "So much has happened; there never really was time for us to truly know one another. Between getting married, the war, Bae…..we've not had much time to ourselves."

"I'm glad, despite the circumstances, that we have that chance now," Belle said, moving off the seat to sit by her husband. She curled up against his side and he didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around her. She snuggled against him and sighed contentedly.

"I'm glad for it, too," Rumple whispered, tracing his darkened nails up and down Belle's arm.

Silence settled over them again and Rumple sank down into the seat to let his head rest atop Belle's. Summoning a blanket, he covered them with it and felt Belle hum contentedly against him.

They would not find the tree today; it would be a few days before they reached the realm in which the tree was rumored to grow. Until then, he would rest. He felt Belle's arm slide over his stomach, squeezing him tightly, and he smiled as his eyes slipped shut.

~000~

The carriage jerked to a stop, causing Belle and Rumple to lurch forward, waking them roughly. Belle sat up, her neck and back stiff from the bent position, and glanced at Rumple who twisted side to side, his back popping with a crack that made Belle cringe.

Pushing open the door, Rumple stepped out of the carriage, then turned and held his hand out for Belle. Discarding the blanket to the opposite bench, she took his hand and stepped down. She stumbled upon landing and Rumple steadied her with a hand on the waist. She glanced up at her husband through hooded lids and felt a sudden longing to kiss him.

A cough pulled her out of her lustful thoughts and she glanced over to see a young man standing next to the horses, who whinnied and neighed in protest at the presence of a stranger. Belle swallowed thickly, feeling her cheeks flush and stepped back from her husband. Rumple let her go without comment and stepped forward to the young man, speaking to him in hushed tones.

With her husband distracted, Belle took a moment to take in her surroundings. They were at an inn, small, rustic, but charming. She could smell meat roasting over a fire somewhere close by, and her stomach growled approvingly. It was nearing nightfall, indicating they had been riding for most of the day, and had clearly slept through lunch.

Curious as to why they were stopping here, Belle stepped forward to try to listen to Rumple's conversation with the other man. She arrived a moment too late, as Rumple turned around, almost colliding with her. He rocked on the balls of his feet and stepped back, giving his wife a dry look and said neutrally, "We will stay here tonight. Gather your things."

Belle felt the sting of his coldness, but instead of allowing her feelings to be hurt, she took a moment to consider what he was doing. It was part of his act, not to show affection toward her in front of others. It was that misguided desire to protect her. He was playing the part of the Dark One, which meant that he would show her no explicit kindness in front of others. It was something he had taken great pains to convince her of two years ago when Regina began showing up and other associates Rumple had made began to visit. He had insisted she not be a doting wife to him then, and informed her that in those moments he would not be her husband. He was the Dark One, and he had a role to play, one in which a lovely young wife did not fit. Belle hated having to pretend in such a manner, but the thought of someone trying to use her love for her husband – or his love for her – against them made her sick. So she begrudgingly kept her opinion to herself and played the part that was required of her.

It was more upsetting today for some reason, but Belle knew it best not to cause a scene. Trying to not let the act bother her, Belle turned and grabbed the baskets she had prepared for their journey. Rumple took the heavier one and motioned with a tilt of his head to follow him inside. Belle obeyed silently, staring at the ground as she walked. It occurred to her too late to pull up her hood so her face might be hidden, but she did it anyway, deciding it might be best to remain as unseen as possible.

The main room of the inn, which doubled as a mess hall, was half full of people. The boisterous men and women silenced as Rumplestiltskin entered, and Belle was secretly grateful now that she'd hidden her face. She could see looks of shock and fear on the faces of otherwise rough looking men, and the women all seemed to shake with fright. Belle fought back a laugh. Her husband wasn't that fearsome, was he?

Rumple approached a nervous looking woman and produced a small pouch out of thin air. He tilted it upside down, causing the woman to scramble to cup her hands to catch the gold that came pouring out.

"Your best room," he said tightly.

The woman gaped, her eyes large as saucers as she stared at the number of coins she held. It was more than enough for the best room, and she shoved the gold into her pockets, which caused the fabric to stretch under the weight. "Come with me," she instructed.

"It's the best room in the inn," the woman said as she led Rumple and Belle up the stairs. "And anything you want at all, just say the word and I'll personally see that it's done."

She reached the door, then paused and pointed at Belle. "Would the lady like a room of her own?" She asked nervously. Belle opened her mouth, but Rumple spoke up first.

"That won't be necessary," Rumple said in the same dark tone he'd been using since they arrived. "She will remain with me."

The woman's cheeks heated and she nodded in an exaggerated manner. "Yes, of course. Of course. Well, I'll leave you to it. Come down for dinner if you wish!"

She brushed past them at that, and practically ran down the stairs away from them. When the woman was out of sight Rumple pushed the door open and stepped inside. Belle followed. After she entered, Rumple pushed the door shut and locked it, then pulled Belle into his arms and bent over to rest his head against her shoulder. "I despise dealing with others."

Belle recalled their conversation in which he admitted to hating being this way, cold and fearsome, but he was playing a role that required him to embrace those parts of him. He was playing the role that was _expected_ of him, she realized. When people saw the Dark One, they expected someone terrifying. Rumple was only giving them what they wanted. He could have been a bit more cordial though, she thought, and poked Rumple's chest hard.

"You could have been a little nicer," she said anyway. She felt him smile against her shoulder and straightened up.

"The Dark One isn't _nice_ ," he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the word. Belle giggled in spite of herself, and whacked him gently on the arm.

"Be nice to _me_ then," she said with just a hint of firmness. "That woman probably things I'm your whore now."

"You must forgive me," Rumple said horrified, taking her hands in his. "I did not think of that."

Unable to resist, Belle rolled her eyes, though there was no real annoyance there. "It's all right," she said with a small laugh, "Just don't make a habit of it."

Nodding, Rumple turned away to sit on the bed where he began unlacing his boots. "I am sorry," he repeated, "I only do this to protect you."

Belle moved and knelt at Rumple's feet. Picking at the laces on his other boot, she asked, "I feel like I've heard this conversation before…" Rumple looked away guiltily. Belle patted his leg. "I'm glad you want to protect me," she said gently, "But what do you think you need to protect me from?"

With a shrug, Rumple responded, "Everyone. Everything."

Belle dropped the laces and raised herself up to cup Rumple's face in her hands. He stopped working at his boot and looked at her, eyes wild and worried. Belle offered him a comforting smile. "I can take care of myself," she said, "And if I can't, I know you'll protect me." She traced her fingers over his lips. "But don't try to protect me so much that you risk shutting me out."

"I'm doing it again then, aren't I? Going overboard."

"You're driving yourself mad with worry," Belle corrected, "I know you're going to worry no matter what, but don't lose yourself to fear. Have faith," she said, letting her hand fall to rest over his heart. "We're going to be all right. You have the power to prevent anything bad from happening to me. But you have to stop waiting for something bad to happen or else you're going to drive us both mad."

"I do tend to worry…"

"Yes you do."

They fell into silence again, and Rumple leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. He let out a ragged sigh, and Belle felt the urge swell up in her to take care of her husband. He spent all his time fretting over her, that it was rare that she got to take care of him. She rubbed his back gently, enjoying the shudder that ran over him when her nails lightly tickled his sides.

"Belle…"

Hearing her name breathed in such a loving way caused the desire she'd felt earlier to rise up within her again. Deciding that she was perfectly safe to act upon her feelings, Belle shifted and captured Rumplestiltskin's lips with her own. He sighed deeply, the gesture soothing his overworked nerves, and he pulled her up to sit on his lap. Once she was there, he let himself fall back onto the bed, pulling Belle over him, and wound his arms around her tightly as he brought his lips back to hers.

Belle smiled against him, and Rumple moved his hands away to entwine his fingers with hers. He twisted and played with the gold band on her finger, the magic it contained keeping him safe from the power of True Love's Kiss.

The thought of what could happen between them should have been frightening, but Rumplestiltskin found it anything but. There was something arousing about the thought that Belle could render him powerless in a matter of moments. He relished the feeling, the trust he bore for his wife. She could break his curse, but willingly chose not to. He liked it, in some strange way, the power she had over him.

But more than that, he was amazed that after everything, she could still love him. And not just that, but she now loved him _truly_. She had finally accepted him as he was, loved him in spite of it all, and it was more than Rumple could have ever hoped for: to be accepted completely and truly. It was a sublime feeling.

"Belle," he sighed against her lips, wanting so much to tell her of the depth of his love and gratitude, but found himself lacking the vocabulary to voice his feelings. Instead he wound his arms around her and kissed her harder, hoping that she would understand. When she brushed her fingers over his cheek and whispered a soft, "I love you," he knew she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked around, but the kind of tree is never mentioned on the show. They just basically say, "Look it's a magical tree let's use it!" So I did some research on tree symbolism and chose the Elder Tree because it represents: "new life, renewal" (and also the fairy realm, but that's not really relevant to what I needed.)
> 
> Also, I'd like to apologize for not updating sooner. I was out of town visiting family, and then discovered the Nashville Comic Con was happening, so I went to that (and got to sit through three separate Star Trek panels and it was totally amazing!)
> 
> Chapter 45 will be up either Friday, October 3 or Saturday, October 4.
> 
> What did you guys think of the premier? Personally I thought it was awesome! I've never seen Frozen, but Anna was just fantastic! (And the Rumbelle scenes were everything I could have ever wanted!)
> 
> As always, thank you for your kind words! I know I don't answer people's reviews, and for that I am sorry, I just don't have time. But I do read every single one, and they always make my day brighter. You guys really are wonderful and I'm so grateful to have such amazing readers. Thank you. :-)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowtiz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	45. Definitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling trying to come to a conclusion. _Who was he?_

Rumplestiltskin escorted Belle down the stairs and into the main hall of the inn. People had gathered for breakfast, which consisted of an array of pastries, fruit, and cheeses. Belle piled fruit onto her plate, glancing sheepishly at Rumplestiltskin, who eyed her with amusement. They'd never gotten around to eating the night before, instead choosing to spend the evening wrapped around each other, working through the months of isolation and loneliness they'd endured.

Nudging him gently with her elbow, Belle picked up a piece of melon and popped it into her mouth. Rumplestiltskin picked at the few pieces of fruit on his plate, eyeing the crowd as he pretended to busy himself. He was on alert, though he had no reason to be overly suspicious. At any rate, Belle was right: they would be fine. One would have to be stupid to attack him outright, and even then, he hadn't frequented this part of the realm in his short time as The Dark One. He was still well-known, centuries of Dark Ones prior having ensured that. It seemed most people weren't aware of the transfer of power from one Dark One to the next, and thus assumed he was still the same Dark One their parents and grandparents had warned them of as children. All for the best, Rumple thought as he watched Belle eat her breakfast, looking flushed and happy. _If they fear me enough, perhaps they'll leave us be._

Once they finished their meal, both very aware of eyes watching their every move, they had their coach hitched up and set out again. It had been a pleasant night, filled with love and heat and passion, but now it was daylight, and it was time to put aside their rekindled affection for one another and set out for their true purpose: bringing Bae home.

They settled in the stagecoach and set out for another day's journey. This repeated for several days, their time spent curled up in the carriage or holed away in the best room of the local inn. It was nice to spend so much time with each other, but both Belle and Rumple were getting increasingly anxious over finding the Elder Tree.

On the sixth day of their journey, Belle pulled out on of the books she'd taken from the trunk to read. She curled up against Rumple, blanket wrapped snugly around her as she read. Rumple watched her with interest as the carriage bounced along, and finally, after she'd read nearly three chapters with hardly a protest he asked, "How are you reading on such a rough road?"

It took Belle a moment to realize her husband had spoken, and she glanced at him apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said, "What?"

He pointed toward the book. "How on earth can you read?"

Belle glanced down, then shrugged. "I don't know. I just am." She thought a moment before asking, "Would you like me to read aloud?"

Rumplestiltskin perked up at that. "That would be nice."

With a smile, Belle repositioned herself, pressing her back to his side and flipped the book to the beginning. Rumple shut his eyes as he listened to her read, and for a moment it felt almost as if they were back in the small one-room shack, in a time when things were much simpler. And though there was still the deep hurt of Bae's absence, Rumple couldn't bring himself to regret this moment. He was now closer to Belle than ever before. Soon he would be reunited with Bae, he hoped, and then everything would be as it should.

Except….

"Belle."

Belle stopped reading and tilted her head back to look at Rumple. "Yes?" She sat up to better face him when she noticed the horror stricken look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"What if Bae doesn't forgive me?"

Belle felt a weight settle over her at the question. It was perfectly valid; Bae hadn't witnessed Rumple's journey over the past few years, and the boy would be hard pressed to go running into his father's arms, that much was certain. In fact, Belle wouldn't be surprised if Baelfire ran away if he were to see his father approaching. She hoped against it, but it was a very real possibility. One it seemed Rumple had only just realized.

Feeling an overwhelming desire to protect Rumplestiltskin, but without giving him false hope, she took Rumple's hand in hers and traced over his green-gold fingers.

"It's possible that could happen," she admitted, tightening her grip on her husband's hand when he whimpered. "But you have to know he's going to be angry."

"He has every right to be," Rumple said after a moment of contemplation.

"Then you don't push it," Belle said, causing Rumple to glance at her uncertainly. "Bae _is_ going to be angry. I was angry. And he knows less about you than I do, and it's going to take time for him to understand what happened that night. Plus, we don't know what else he's endured, or if he's even-"

"He's alive," Rumple snapped. Belle shot him a heated look and he glanced away, ashamed at how quickly he'd reacted. "Forgive me," he sighed, "You're right, though. It's possible he…isn't…"

"This is one instance where I don't want to be."

"I don't want him to hate me forever. Not as I loathe my father. I have never forgiven him; I don't know if I ever could."

"Rumple," Belle said, moving again so that she sat across from him. She leaned forward and took his hands, holding them between them. "You've spent all this time trying _not_ to be like your father. You need to stop."

She saw the confusion flash in his dark eyes, but she had a point, and he needed to hear it. Carrying on, Belle said, "You don't want to be like your father, so don't be. Stop trying to think of what your father would or wouldn't do, and start thinking about what Rumplestiltskin would do. Don't let his actions dictate yours."

"But he's haunted me for years," Rumple said weakly, his head hanging low.

"Rumplestiltskin," Belle asked, lifting her hand to his chin. She raised his head to look at her and leaned closer. "Do you remember what I told you the first night we were together at the summer festival?"

He thought for a moment, ultimately shaking his head no. It had been a long time since that night, and while he remembered how lovely Belle had looked, and the joy he'd felt from dancing with her, he couldn't recall what she'd said to him.

"I told you we're all more than our reputations," she said, "And it's just as true now. You are so much more than what your father was. You sacrificed everything for your son. You're still making sacrifices. You're trying to fix your mistake, which is more than can be said for Malcolm. Rumple," she stressed, "You don't have to try to be better than your father because you already are."

"Belle," Rumple whimpered, falling to his knees on the carriage floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist, sobbing into her skirts while Belle ran her fingers through his hair and cooed gently. He remained that way for a long while, clinging to her and crying. Belle made no effort to move him, knowing it would be best to let him sort himself out in his own time. Instead she rubbed him, tracing abstract patterns over the parts of his body she could reach, eventually leaning over to press kisses to the back of his head.

"I never met Malcolm," she whispered, "But you've told me enough to know that you're nothing like him. That man didn't love anyone but himself, but you? You love so much. You love Bae, and you love me. And it's the most powerful and precious thing I've ever known. You're so much more than your father, Rumplestiltskin."

He said nothing, just continued to sob, clinging to her as she tried her best to soothe him. She'd known from the very first moment she met Rumplestiltskin that he was broken, but she never knew just how deep those wounds ran. She wished to protect him as he wanted to protect her, and it upset her greatly that she couldn't take away his pain in that moment and ensure that he never hurt because of his past again.

Instead they would have to look toward the future, and ensure that history never repeated itself.

When he at last calmed and raised his head, it was nearly dark. He sniffed, wiping his nose with his hand and pulled himself up to sit on the bench across from Belle.

She could barely see him, but she could sense that he was calmer now. He waved his hand and a small candle appeared, floating to the side and offering them some light. "You've not eaten," he said hoarsely and Belle shrugged.

"I've been doing more important things."

A small smile traced Rumple's lips and he cleared his throat. "I'll have to make sure you eat once we're settled at the inn."

"Are we close?"

Rumple peeked out the window and from the light shining, Belle could see streaks of tears where Rumple had wept. Her skirts were slightly damp, but that was hardly important. What mattered was that Rumplestiltskin was okay, and based on the way he looked at her, grinning and mischievous, she thought he might be.

"Should be there at any moment."

"Good," Belle said, slinking down and stretching her legs out onto the seat across from her. "I can't wait to get out of this carriage."

"Thank you, Belle," Rumple said suddenly. Belle glanced up at him, feeling her eyelids getting heavy.

"For what?"

Rumple shook his head. "For everything."

Belle reached out and their fingers intertwined. There was nothing more to be said.

She must have dozed off, because what felt like only a moment later, Rumple was gently shaking her.

"We're here," he said when she opened her eyes wearily. Belle groaned, and sat up, limbs heavy from lack of movement. Rumple helped her out of the carriage, and she leaned against it as Rumple had the young man who came out to greet them pull down the trunk.

When he was ready, Belle grabbed the basket and followed Rumple inside. It was the same as every inn they'd stopped at. Rumple behaved menacingly, which Belle was certain ensured them privacy. No one wanted to wait on the Dark One it seemed. They retired to their room – once again the best the inn had to offer – and Belle collapsed onto the bed with a groan. From behind her, Rumplestiltskin chuckled, and Belle sat up, glaring at him as she began to fiddle with the laces of her dress.

When she had changed into a nightgown, she crawled back onto the bed and settled herself against the stiff pillow. Patting the spot beside her, she wordlessly beckoned Rumple to join her, and after he magically changed from his clothing to his night shirt, he followed eagerly.

"You still haven't eaten," he said as she snuggled against him.

"Too tired to eat," Belle murmured, already half asleep. She whined when Rumple jostled her, and pushed her away from him gently.

"No sleeping until you've eaten something, he chided. When Belle tried to protest, he pressed a finger against her lips. "You fret over whether I eat," he explained, "And it's only fair the favor be returned."

In response, Belle opened her mouth and bit Rumple's finger playfully, holding it only hard enough so that he couldn't pull it away.

"I hardly count as a meal, sweetheart."

Belle giggled and let go of him, feeling absolutely silly. She blamed it on her fatigue, and snickered as she watched Rumple summon the basket of food over to the bed. He gave her a strange look and she waved him away. "I'm fine," she said, "Just feeling silly."

Handing her a piece of cheese and some bread he said, "Eat a little, then, my silly wife. Then you can sleep. I promise."

With another yawn, Belle obeyed. When she finished, she rolled over, pulled the covers on her and bid him a mumbled 'good night.'

Rumple smiled at her behavior. She had endured so much over the past week, it was no wonder she was exhausted. He was exhausting to be around he figured, and it amazed him that she had yet to become irritable with him. The woman truly had an abundance of patience.

Once he cleared the mess he'd made, he crawled into bed as well, and pulled Belle to him. She groaned at the disturbance, but did not awaken and Rumple pressed his nose into her hair, breathing her in as he tried to relax.

Sleep did not come, and Rumple found himself mulling over his wife's words: _"You don't have to try to be better than your father because you already are."_

It was a hard concept to grasp. His father had left such an impression on him, that Rumple had spent the rest of his life trying to define himself as not his father. But in all that time, where had he allowed himself to be defined as he was? He had been a lowly spinner, living under the shadow of his father. Then he had been the village coward. Now he was The Dark One. The rest of the world saw him as those things, but how did he see himself?

He glanced down at his sleeping wife, recalling another conversation when Belle had told him that Rumplestiltskin had always been enough for her. But there was a problem with that, Rumplestiltskin thought. He didn't know who Rumplestiltskin was. He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling trying to come to a conclusion. _Who was he?_

He was a coward, that was certain. But he'd also been brave. He'd sacrificed his leg to be with his son, and had spent many wonderful years watching his boy grow.

He was a spinner. He made his living by spinning wool. Now he spun gold. He'd always cherished the wheel and its ability to make something beautiful out of something rough and ugly. No matter wool or straw, what came forth from his hands began as worthless but was transformed into something of value.

Again, he glanced at Belle and considered what she had done to him. She had taken a meek, illiterate man and turned him into a husband and father. Through her hands he had learned to read, write, and become a better person. Belle had made him valuable.

That was who he was, he realized with blink. He was a husband and a father. Out of everything else he was, had been, and would be, that was where his value lay. With his family. They were what defined him; not his past, not his magic, not even his father. As he thought back to his life with Malcolm and compared it to the life Bae had lived, Rumple understood that despite all his mistakes, he was nothing like the man that had forsaken him for eternal life. He was more than that. He was better than that.

Slipping out of bed, Rumple scribbled a quick note and left it on the pillow next to Belle's head. There was a renewed determination in him – it had never waned, but was now bubbling within him, fueling him with the blind drive he'd felt in the days immediately following his son's disappearance. He was brimming with energy, and he couldn't wait until daylight to renew their quest. Vanishing in a puff of smoke, he grinned madly. He was driven with purpose: He had a tree to find and a son to bring home. And time was wasting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! We are getting ever closer to the end. I finished the story a coupe days ago. I'm a bit in shock that I've actually written the entire thing, but I feel quite accomplished. I can't wait for you to see how it all ends!
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes in this chapter. Neither of my betas were able to look over this chapter. But that's life sometimes.
> 
> Chapter 46 will be up either Friday, October 10 or Saturday, October 11. I hate that I'm not able to stay consistent with the updates, but that's what happens when you buy a house that needs remodeling!
> 
> As always, thank you for your kind words. Your reviews are a delight to read. :-)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	46. The Elder Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shivered slightly and turned his focus toward the west of where they were standing. "I sense magic."

Chapter 46: The Elder Tree

Belle awoke groggily, reaching out for Rumplestiltskin. This bed was decidedly more comfortable than the ones from the previous few nights, and she wanted a few moments longer in bed snuggled against her husband. After over a year of being without him, she now wanted to be near him at all times. When her hand brushed cold sheets she raised her head and looked over, glaring at the empty space.

She noticed the parchment on the pillow and picked it up, unfolding it to read.

_My dearest wife,_

_I'm sorry I'm not there to greet you this morning, but I've gone on ahead. We are on the edge of the Western realm and I feel a restless anticipation to truly begin searching. I did not want to burden you unnecessarily, however. You were so tired last night that I had no desire to disturb you. Please do not be upset. I simply could not sleep and didn't want to waste time._

_When you are ready, simply get in the carriage. You will continue on the path I have set, and I will meet you later on._

_Do not worry, my dear. You will be perfectly safe._

_Yours eternally,_

_Rumplestiltskin_

Belle clenched her fists, wadding the paper slightly. "Oh, that….stupid….sneaking….imp!" She huffed in annoyance. "Going on without me. I can't believe him!" She stood and dressed, huffing and grumbling all the while.

"Not all of us can be annoying magical sorcerers who can just travel anywhere we want whenever we want!" She complained loudly.

When she was finished packing and ranting, she traveled downstairs and requested her carriage. The young man looked at her fretfully and Belle resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "My husband has gone on ahead to take care of some business," she said as politely as she could stand, "He won't be joining me at present."

The man seemed to sag in relief and rushed off to ready the horses. When he turned away, Belle did roll her eyes. People could be so infuriating. At that thought, Belle shut her eyes and took a long, deep breath. Waking to find Rumplestiltskin had run off in the night without her had put her in a foul mood, and though she wanted to snap at anyone who so much as looked at her, she knew that was wrong. When the man came back with the carriage, she did her best to smile at him and be as pleasant as possible. He'd done nothing wrong, and she wouldn't taker her frustration out on him.

Belle climbed into the coach with slight difficulty. She was used to having a hand to assist her, but she'd set the young man who'd hitched up the horses to take care of her trunk. Once she was settled, she sat, thinking back to how Rumple made the horses move. Biting her lip, she glanced around as she thought, then finally settled on saying aloud, "Let's go."

She jerked forward as the carriage started moving, but smiled in satisfaction. Let her husband leave her alone, she thought smugly. She could take care of herself.

After what felt like hours of riding alone in the carriage, Belle had had enough. It was on thing to be cooped up with someone, but to spend that time alone was another. She called out for the horses to stop, pleased when they obeyed her. She felt almost magical, a sorceress in her own right, to be able to make commands in the same manner as her husband. She waved her hand at the door playfully, only half expecting it to open, thoroughly surprised when it did. Looking at the door as if it might reach out and grab her, Belle slid quickly out of the carriage and stretched.

It was probably not wise to walk about alone in the forest without Rumple nearby, but Belle was annoyed, achy, and needed some exercise to stretch her legs. If she was late to the next inn, well, that would teach Rumple to leave her in the middle of the night. She 'hmphed' indignantly, more vexed than angry, and decided that when she saw her husband again she was going to tease him mercilessly about leaving her alone.

She pushed her way through the forest, debating on how far off the path she should go. She didn't want to wander far, for fear of leaving the horses at risk. But she wanted to walk. She was outside, in the warmth of the day and covered by the shade of the trees that towered over her. She glanced up, blinking as rays of the sun peeked through a thick blanket of leaves. It was a pleasant day.

As Belle walked, she wondered what Bae might be doing. What sort of world was the Land without Magic? Was it like this one, only void of the energy that thrummed through the air and made her bones tingle whenever Rumple displayed a feat of his magic? Was it still just as dangerous? Men could do great evil without magic. She thought back to her father, who'd been killed by men, not a wizard. Was this new world just as cruel, or was it a quiet paradise where all their troubles would be stripped from them like they didn't belong?

Belle had to admit that she looked forward to seeing the new world. Her first priority was Baelfire, as it would always be, but once he was found - and she was certain he would be found - she hoped to explore the world. Maybe they could settle down to a humble living, away from rumors and torturous pasts that lingered in the shadows like a thief waiting for a moment of weakness. They could be happy in this new world. Things could never go back to the way they were before, but they could heal and move on. And things could be good again.

"I can't wait to see my son again," she sighed to the trees around her. They only rustled in response.

By the time Belle drifted out of her thoughts, she had no idea where she was. She turned back to face the way she came, but the road was nowhere in sight. Swallowing thickly, she glanced around her, trying to get her bearings. How could she have become so absorbed in her own mind that she stopped paying attention to her surroundings!

Pausing to collect herself, Belle took a deep breath and counted silently to ten. If it began to get too late, she could simply summon Rumplestiltskin, and all would be well. She fingered the ring on her finger, something so a part of her she often forgot of its existence, and tried to think back. As far as she knew, she'd walked straight. So if she walked straight the other way, she would come to the road eventually. It was a sound theory, she thought, and so she squared her shoulders and began to walk back.

~000~

It was _not_ a sound theory.

It was growing dark, and Belle was beginning to panic. She was nowhere near the road, and she couldn't hear the horses either. Rumplestiltskin would be expecting her at any moment, and he would go mad with fear if she didn't arrive.

"Oh, why did I get out of the carriage?" She griped to a passing tree. "I should have just stayed put."

She didn't not expect an answer, and so when a whispering voice brushed past her ear, Belle lurched around, chills running up her arms and down her back when she saw nothing but trees.

"Hello?" She called out softly, praying that she was not about to do something foolish.

For a moment Belle was met with silence, but then she heard what sounded like growling. Deciding it would be best to get away from the source of that sound, Belle turned and began to walk briskly back the other way. Trying to remain calm, Belle glanced around her, looking for anything she might recognize as a distinct feature that told her she was going the correct way. Behind her, the growling grew louder and Belle whimpered in fright. She heard a rustling behind her, and panic took over.

Gripping her skirts, she lifted them and began running, and any hope that she might have been on the correct path disappeared. She shoved her way through low cut branches and shrubs, cursing herself for her idle curiosity and foolishness. She should have known better than to get out of the carriage! But instead she had been stubborn and decided to do things her own way, and now she was lost and being chased by- she didn't want to find out what.

Out of breath, Belle sagged against a tree, and took a moment to listen. She could hear nothing save for her own haggard breathing and some birds rustling in the trees overhead. By now the sun was nearly set and Belle knew she had no other option than to call for her husband. He would be upset no doubt, and Belle could just hear him fuss over her carelessness. He would be right, but it didn't make it easier to bear him admonishing her for it. With a resigned sigh, Belle leaned against the tree and called out Rumplestiltskin's name.

"Rumplestiltskin, I summon thee!"

He appeared before her in all his menacing glory, but his expression was that of a worrying husband. He took a moment to take in their surroundings, then studied Belle for a long moment, and for the first time Belle realized she must look a fright. Glancing down, she saw her dress was wrinkled and dirty. There were a few small rips as well. Raising a hand to her hair, she felt her curls were limp and dirty, and she suddenly felt more embarrassed than anything else.

Crossing his arms, Rumple said, "What have you been up to?"

"I took a walk."

His eyes raked over her. "Is that what you call it?"

Rolling her eyes, Belle pushed herself off the tree and stepped forward. She half-heartedly pushed at him, frowning, "Just what were you thinking, leaving me alone like that?"

"You're not blaming your current state of disarray on me, are you?"

Sighing, Belle shook her head. "No, I'm not. But I thought we were doing this _together_ ," she emphasized, gesturing between them, "It's one thing to wake up alone at the castle, it's another entirely to wake up alone in a place with which I'm entirely unfamiliar."

"And then you go traipsing about in the forest by yourself?"

He had a point there, Belle realized. "Yes," she said, "My legs were getting stiff. I didn't intend to go far, but…." She waved her hand hopelessly around them, "Here we are."

"Indeed. Why did you not call for me sooner?"

Belle shrugged. "I thought I could do it myself. Obviously I was wrong. I heard something back there," she pointed in the direction she just came, "And ran away. I think that made me even more lost than I was already."

"Well," Rumple said, stepping forward and swinging an arm around his wife's shoulders, "Shall we go?"

"Please."

Turning them, Rumple took a few steps, then stopped, his body going rigid. Belle glanced up at him in concern. "What's wrong?"

He shivered slightly and turned his focus toward the west of where they were standing. "I sense magic."

Belle pressed closer to Rumple. "What kind?"

In lieu of answering, Rumple grabbed Belle's hand and began to pull her behind him as they moved toward the source of the magic. Belle gave up all hope of trying to salvage the dress and only lifted it enough so that she wouldn't trip over her skirts. She followed Rumple who was practically running at this point. She couldn't believe that this mysterious magical source could be dangerous; if that were the case Rumplestiltskin wouldn't let her anywhere near it. The fact that he was dragging her along with him gave her hope that perhaps something good was just over the horizon.

They reached a small clearing. Rumple halted and Belle took a moment to catch her breath, her heart racing in her chest. Beside her, Rumple was silent. Wordlessly, he waved his hand and summoned the botany book. With another wave of his hand, he produced a lantern and wordlessly handed it to Belle so that she could see. He held the book down so they could both look at the image, and then Belle glanced up in front of them.

In the middle of the clearing, matching the image in the book exactly, was the Elder Tree.

~000~

Rumplestiltskin stared at the tree before him, feeling an array of emotions. After all this time, he'd found the key to reaching their son. It was hard to comprehend that at last, his searching was at an end. There were plenty of new obstacles ahead of them, but the largest hurdle had just been overcome. Beside him, Belle stood tense, and he imagined she was just as overwhelmed as he was.

"It's….smaller than I thought it would be," she said at length. Rumplestiltskin snorted.

"Magic comes in all shapes and sizes, sweetheart. I wouldn't judge its worth by its size."

Belle shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that," she replied, "I suppose I just imagined something more…imposing." She bit her lip and then added thoughtfully, "But smaller means easier to move, I guess?"

Her own words caused her to tilt her head in confusion, "How are we going to move it?"

Rumple stared at the tree for a long while before answering. "I suppose I just….send it home."

"Won't that kill it?"

Rumple shook his head. "It's a magical tree, dearest," he said, "I can't imagine it'll die so quickly. I can preserve it, at any rate."

Belle nodded thoughtfully. "So we just take it home?"

Rumple weighed his options. "I suppose that's all there is to do," he said, "We can't just leave it here."

"Especially since I have no idea where _here_ is."

That caused Rumple to roll his eyes. "You know you're not allowed to be upset at me leaving after you pulled a stunt like this."

"My stunt helped us find the tree," Belle countered tersely.

Turning to face her, Rumple smiled softly. "Indeed it did," he said before leaning down to kiss her. She tensed at first, fully aware of how sweaty and dirty she was, but Rumple seemed to take no notice and instead pulled her closer to him. Deciding that if he didn't mind, then neither did she, and she wound her arms around him, her hands sliding into his curls, and kissed him back soundly.

When he finally released her lips, he turned his head to look back at the tree. "This wouldn't have been possible without you," he whispered.

Belle could sense his melancholy, and rested her hand on his chest. "Hey," she whispered, and he turned his attention back to her. "It doesn't matter who did what," she said, "What matters is we're going to find our son. Let's focus on that. We should be happy."

"You're right," he answered after a thoughtful moment. "You're absolutely right."

Stepping away from her, Rumple raised his hands and focused his magic. The tree began to tremble and then it was ripped from the ground, it's long roots swirling in the air as it hovered. Rumple held the tree steady with one hand, then waved the other, and the tree disappeared with a soft pop.

"Where is it?" Belle asked.

"At the castle," Rumple replied, stepping back to wrap his arm around Belle's waist, "Where we should return to."

"What about the horses?" Belle asked, worry in her tone. She'd left them, another foolish move on her part, and prayed they hadn't been stolen and attacked.

Rumple said nothing but waved his hand once more. Belle squeaked in surprise, and then they vanished out of the forest. When they reappeared, it was in the great hall. The tree sat on the old, elaborate rug, which was now also covered with leaves and dirt. Belle resisted a groan. She's not been as adamant about cleaning every room of late, but now she definitely had a mess to take care of. She stared at the tree, looking so strange and out of place amongst the various objects that lined the walls. The tree was tall, but only just so. If Belle were to estimate, it stood around seven feet tall. She had no idea how they were supposed to use the tree, but she figured Rumple would know. Magic was his domain, not hers, and she was eager to get on with things now that they had a new path.

"So what now?" Belle asked as she moved over to the window and peaked beyond the curtain. She could see the stable from there, and breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to make out the silhouette of the horses grazing in the pasture.

Rumple circled the tree, hands clasped together behind his back as he looked the trunk up and down studiously. After a long while he said, "I'm not certain."

Belle sank into the lush seat behind her at that. "Shall I start researching again?" She asked, half teasing, half weary at the prospect. "Maybe look up recipe's for harvesting magic from trees?"

"I know what to do," he grumbled, shooting her a playful look, "It's just a matter of deciding how to go about it."

"So I shouldn't worry?"

Rumple shook his head. "I think I worry about things enough for the two of us," he said. "So no. Don't worry."

She stood and approached Rumple, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Keep me company," he said simply, then added sheepishly, "And perhaps some research as well."

"I'll get right on both," she promised before glancing down at her unkempt state, "After I clean up. I'm a mess."

~000~

Once she was clean, Belle busied herself with cleaning the mess in the great hall while Rumple figured out what to do with the Elder Tree. At length he settled on moving it to the work room, where it would be at hand while Rumple figured out what to do next. While he did that, Belle replaced all the old spell books she knew she would not need to reread. When she reached the manuscripts that contained the life of the Dark One, Belle paused. Running her fingers over the cover of one of the books, she stared at it with confliction. Despite all the darkness and evil these books contained, they were a key to fully understanding her husband. It was amazing, after so many centuries of being enslaved by the power of the dagger, of being the most powerful creature in the world, that it would all amount to nothing in the end. With Rumplestiltskin's disappearance, the Dark One would be no more, Belle realized. Everything in those books would become merely history, and would no longer have any hold on their lives, save as a bitter memory.

Suddenly Belle felt a pang in her chest, and she realized that once they reached the other side, there would be no coming back. Her home would be in this new world. The curse had at least offered a return path to this world, but with the tree, there was no knowing whether they would ever return. Her life here was effectively at an end.

But it wasn't home without Baelfire. If she had to give up this world, this life to be with her son, then she would do it a hundred times over. Nothing was more important to her than Bae. And as she returned the books to the shelf, she glanced over at Rumple, who was watching her with a smile. She stacked the books carelessly on the shelf and ran into her husband's arms. All fear and doubt slipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for the delay. I went to post this on Saturday but as I did a quick read through, I decided I absolutely hated the middle part of the chapter, so I spent some time reworking it. I'm significantly happier with it now.
> 
> Chapter 47 will be up this Friday or Saturday.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support and kind words. As always, your reviews are super appreciated. :-)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	47. The Most Powerful Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We can't have things be too easy, I suppose."

Chapter 47: The Most Powerful Magic

It was maddening, having the way to their son sitting in the same room but being unable to actually do anything with it. It had been only a couple days since they'd brought the tree back, and already Belle and Rumplestiltskin were at their wit's end.

"There _must_ be something," Belle said as she slammed the book shut and rested her head on top of it. Rumple looked up at her from his own book and frowned.

"Nothing in there either?"

She shook her head, which was still pressed to the book. "No."

Rumple sighed and Belle sat up. "This is ridiculous," he said.

Belle agreed. "We can't have things be _too_ easy, I suppose."

Rumple chuckled at that. "Indeed not-"

He froze, sitting up alarmed. Before Belle could ask what was wrong, he waved his hand and the tree disappeared from sight. "Rum-"

"Who's this?"

Rumple and Belle looked over to see Regina standing at the doorway, her elaborate black dress flowing out around her like dark tendrils. She radiated magic, even Belle could sense it, and the woman stepped forward, her red lips spreading into a wicked grin.

Standing, Rumple bowed slightly to Regina. "I wasn't expecting you today, Your Majesty."

Regina hummed and stepped around him, moving over to the table that was reserved solely for the curse. She glanced down at the scroll, then up at Rumplestiltskin accusingly. "I came by last week," she said, her tone casual but hiding malice, "And you weren't here."

"I had some deals to attend to," Rumple replied automatically. It wasn't a secret that he assisted people all over the realms.

Regina seemed to accept the answer, then let her eyes wander over to Belle, who stood, clutching her book in her hand. Stepping forward, Regina reached out and cupped Belle's chin in her well-manicured hand.

"And who are you?"

Belle turned her head away, pulling herself from Regina's grasp. She eyed the woman daringly, not saying a word. Belle knew Regina was dangerous, but she wasn't afraid of her.

"She's none of your concern," Rumple said from behind them. Regina turned around and stared at Rumple in annoyance.

If she's working on my curse, then I dare say she is my concern." Regina glanced back at Belle. "Who are you, dear?"

Belle pulled her shoulders back and stood firm, silent. Regina glared then turned her attention back to Rumple. "Is it too much for you to handle on your own?" She asked mockingly. "If you need help with _my_ curse, why not come to me instead of recruiting this simpering little-" she turned back to give Belle once last glance over, "Mouse."

Rumple bristled at that, but held his temper. "What I do with my curse is my business," he said tersely, "And at any rate, you're supposed to be plotting your happily ever after, dearie, not worrying about the particulars of the curse."

"But I do worry," Regina said, seeming to have lost interest in Belle already. "I'm worried you aren't holding up your end of the deal."

"I'm a busy man, "Rumple hissed, "But I _always_ keep my deals."

"Then why is it I hear Snow White and that blond dolt of a prince have secretly married in the forest!" 

Rumple had to hold back his glee. So they were married. A child would no doubt be on the way soon. Perhaps, before he left, he could whisper into the princess's ear of a way to go after the queen. He had no fond feelings for the woman, and would feel safer knowing he left the world with a little hope than in the hands of a woman whose only true desire was revenge. 

"That's good, then, "Rumple said and Regina glared. "That husband of hers will be stripped away from her when the curse happens. She won't remember him. Isn't that what you want? For her to have everything she ever loved _ripped_ from her." 

Regina seemed to shrink into herself for a moment before responding with a murmured, "Yes." 

"Then have patience, dearie," Rumple instructed, "This curse is no simple feat, and if you want to truly enjoy your victory, you might want to start making plans." 

"Fine," Regina said, turning and moving toward the door. She paused and glanced back at Belle, who was watching her with equal distaste. "Try not to get in the way, little mouse." 

"I'm not the one who interrupted the Dark One's work to complain about his methods," Belle hissed. 

Regina whirled around, and Rumplestiltskin snapped Belle's name. Narrowing her eyes further, Regina took a menacing step forward, then restrained herself and smirked. "Feisty little thing you have there, Rumple," she said, "Might want to train her on how to address her betters." 

With that Regina turned and vanished. 

Belle let her shoulders sag, then glanced over at Rumple who looked none too pleased at her. 

"She could kill you with a flick of her wrist," he bellowed, "And you _sass_ her?" 

"She called you 'Rumple'," Belle replied hotly, " _I_ call you Rumple," she stressed, pointing to herself, "Not her." 

Rumple opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it back shut. After studying her a long moment, he asked, "Are you _jealous_?" 

"No," Belle snapped, crossing her arms indignantly, "I have nothing to be jealous of. I just don't like her marching in here, insulting me, and calling you names she has no right to use." 

He eyed her in a way that said he didn't believe her, but said nothing else. Instead he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. "In the future," he said softly, "If she comes around, please be careful." 

Belle sighed. "Fine." 

Pressing a kiss to her nose, Rumple smirked, "Her reaction was quite humorous." 

"I don't like her." 

Chuckling, Rumple pulled Belle over to where the tree once stood. Waving his hand, it reappeared. 

"Neither do I." 

~000~ 

After the incident with Regina, Belle and Rumple worked harder to figure out how to make the tree work. Multiple books later, they'd found nothing, and both felt discouragement begin to manifest itself. It was looking hopeless. 

One evening, after nearly entering into a heated argument over the interpretation of a spell, Belle and Rumple settled down by the fire in the great hall to rest. As tired as Rumple felt, he knew Belle was even more so, her mortal, magicless body being pushed to the very limit with the constant research. They curled up together, Belle resting in between Rumple's legs as they tried to clear their minds of everything useless they'd read. 

Belle dozed off while Rumple sat, mind wandering aimlessly to nothing particular. He thought of Bae, the curse, and the new world. Finally, his mind seemed to have enough and he felt his head drooping forward and didn't bother to fight it. He didn't need sleep as often as Belle did, though he indulged in it frequently, but now his body was demanding he rest. He didn't' have the strength to protest. 

When he awoke, Belle was sitting before him, the botany book in her hand. Rubbing his eyes, Rumple shifted and looked around. It was still dark out, and he wondered how long he'd been asleep. It felt like mere moments 

"What are you doing?" He asked groggily. Belle looked up, her own eyes bloodshot and darkened from stress and too many sleepless nights. 

Without looking up, Belle read, _"It also contains magical properties to allow transportation to other worlds."_

"Yes? And?" Rumple prompted. 

"Well, I got to thinking," Belle said, "It says it allows transportation to other worlds." 

"Yes." 

"Well," Belle said thoughtfully, "How do you get from one place to another?" 

Rumple sat up, "Do you want a simple answer or-" 

"How do you get into the kitchen?" 

"You walk in there?" 

Belle nodded. "Through….?" 

Rumple stared at her incredulously. "I'm not following, sweetheart." 

"A doorway," she said plainly, "To get from one room to another, you walk through a doorway. When you walk from here and go through _that_ door," she said, pointing to the door on the other side of the room, "You end up in the foyer. When you walk out the front door-" 

"You're outside." 

"You're in another place." 

Rumple felt himself awaken. "You're saying we need to make a doorway out of the tree." 

Belle nodded. "It's magic," she said, "And I've read about other spells that require walking through doorways." 

"There are realms that can only be accessed through mirrors and doors," Rumple agreed, looking at his wife with pleasure. "I think you may have figured it out, my dear." 

"It can't hurt to try." 

Rumple stood. "It certainly can't." 

_~000~_

By the time dawn broke, Rumple had managed to carve out a very rough doorway. It was more a hole than anything, starting at the base of the tree and going up until the trunk split into multiple branches. The hole was wide enough for one person to squeeze through at a time. They stood hand in hand before the tree, neither quite certain what to do next. 

"How do we know it worked?" Belle asked. 

Stepping forward, Rumple placed a hand on the trunk to balance himself, then stuck his head through the hole. 

"Rumple!" Belle called, eager anticipation making her voice shrill. He stepped back, then turned and looked at Belle, pained.

"Nothing." 

Her shoulders sagged. "It didn't work?" 

Rumple shook his head. "Didn't seem to." 

Belle sank to the ground, trying to hold back tears. "I was so sure it would work," she cried, and Rumple knelt down next to her. 

"We'll figure it out," he said soothingly. Belle had been so hopeful, so happy to have figured out a way, and now it wasn't working. Rumple felt a flash of anger. It wasn't fair that she be forced to suffer because of his mistake. It wasn't fair at all. 

Picking Belle up, he carried her over to an armchair and sat with her, holding her while she cried out her frustration. He pressed kisses to her temple as she leaned against him, and when she calmed, she lifted his hand into hers and began to play idly with his fingers and ring. 

He watched as she spun the ring on his finger with idle interest. Belle was fascinated with it, and how something so small could hold so much power. It held their love, and was able to stop their kiss from removing his power. True Love was quite impressive, if one stopped long enough to think about it as more than just a way to break a curse. 

Rumple's eyes snapped up and he leapt out of the seat, causing Belle to stumble onto her feet with a surprised cry. She looked at Rumple with shock, but had no time to voice a complaint as he grabbed her hand and dragged her over to a work bench. 

Reaching up, he plucked out a strand of hair, then held out his other hand to her. "Give me a strand of hair." 

"What?" 

"No questions," he said, waving his hand dramatically, "Hair." 

Belle gave him a look, then reached up and plucked a hair from her head. She held it out to Rumple and he took it from her, twisting them together. Holding the strands in one hand, he reached up to a nearby shelf and pulled down an empty vial. Dropping the hairs inside, he watched as they began to swirl around each other and glow a bright purple. Belle bent down to watch the display, gasping as the hairs disappeared and transformed into a golden liquid. 

Rumple picked up the vial and returned to face the tree. Belle followed, watching in wonder as her husband stood for a moment, then threw the contents of the vial forward, soaking the front of the tree with the potion he'd made. 

At first, nothing happened. Then a moment later the tree began to shake and creak, and a bright light sprang forth from the hole Rumple had carved. It was blinding, and Belle and Rumple had to look away. When it died down, they both uncovered their eyes, and gasped at the sight before them. 

The tree remained mostly the same, except where the doorway once stood clear, now there was a swirling purple mist. Glancing at each other, they stepped forward, and Rumple shivered at the pull of magic that came from the tree. 

"It worked." 

Belle looked from the tree to her husband, gripping his hand tighter. "We did it?" 

"Aye," Rumple said softly, "That we did." 

"How?" Belle asked staring at the strange purple mist that swirled beautifully in the doorway. 

"The most powerful magic of all," he said, squeezing her hand affectionately. 

True Love!" Belle said, smiling up at Rumple. 

He returned the look. "Aye," he said, "True Love." 

They remained silent for a moment, then Rumple cleared his throat. "When do you want to leave?" 

Belle blinked. "I thought you would want to go now." 

Rumple nodded solemnly. "Oh, it's taking everything in me to not rush through that portal," he said, "But once we leave, there's no coming back. Not this way. And right now there are too many things left undone to just leave this world behind. 

"Like Regina." 

"Yes." 

"And I'd like to say goodbye to Moraine. And Anna. Agda…" 

"We'll say goodbye, tie up loose threads, prepare ourselves for a new life, and then we'll go." 

"Yes," Belle said, "And then we go find our son." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> Getting ever closer to the end. Two more chapters and the epilogue to go!
> 
> As always thank you everyone for your love and support. And don't forget to check out my other works on my Tumblr page! Look for me under the same user name.
> 
> Chapter 48 will be up either October 25!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horwitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	48. Closing Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moraine nodded, staring off toward the horizon, thoughts of a day when Baelfire might walk through the door and into her life once again filling her head. She felt hopeful.

Chapter 48: Closing Doors

"There's so much to do," Belle remarked as she stared down at the list she'd made. Rumple looked over her shoulder, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he read over her list.

"Most of this will be easy to take care of," he mused before pausing at the last item written in Belle's swirling script. "Why is the Queen's name on the list?"

Belle turned to face her husband, holding the list between them, "You can't honestly think we're going to leave without your letting Regina know that the curse is no longer being made."

Laughing, Rumple plucked the list from Belle's hand. "What makes you think she deserves any such courtesy? I thought you disliked her."

"I do," Belle said with a shrug, "But that doesn't change the fact that you used her, and no matter what I may think of her, she deserves to know the truth."

They stared at each other for several moments, Rumplestiltskin glaring as his wife stood with her arms crossed stubbornly. There would be no getting around this, he knew. She wanted him to confront Regina, and he would do it. It would be with great reluctance, but deep down he knew Belle was right. Regina deserved to know the truth.

Rolling his eyes, Rumplestiltskin stepped forward and rested his hands on Belle's forearms. "Fine," he said with a heaving, dramatic sigh, "I'll talk to her."

Belle's smirk was full of smug satisfaction. "Thank you," she said before placing a kiss on Rumple's cheek. She turned and walked toward the door before stopping and glancing back at him. "Well, let's go. We have a lot to do before we can leave."

Rumplestiltskin followed her out the door, shaking his head in amusement.

~000~

Belle knelt at her father's grave, fresh bouquet of flowers in hand. Rumple had vanished to speak to a local shepherd in a neighboring village about their sheep and horses. Belle had been adamant that the animals find good homes, and so after a brief search, he found a small farm not far from their own village that was owned by a kind family. Belle had been pleased with the discovery, which in turn made Rumplestiltskin happy.

While Rumplestiltskin paid a surprise visit to the farm, Belle had elected to spend time with her father for what she realized with a cry would be her last time. Though he was no longer alive, Belle had taken comfort in knowing she could still visit his grave. But after today there would be no more visits to him, only memories. She had a few of his books and a couple other small trinkets as mementos, but none it compared to having her father. She missed him dearly, but she knew he wouldn't want her to mourn him greatly. He'd spent years mourning her mother, and it was a sorrow he'd never wanted her to endure.

Placing the flowers on the headstone, Belle sat before her father in silence, allowing the cool breeze of the morning to envelop her. She was a little chilly, wishing she'd thought to bring a cloak, but there was something about the coolness in the air that gave her comfort.

She sat for some time, contemplating her life with her father. She had nothing to say, except goodbye, and she wasn't quite ready to say those words just yet. Instead she thought back on their life, and of how much joy Bae had brought to him as well. Equally, Bae loved his grandfather, and Maurice's death had been a hard blow for the boy.

It had been hard for her too. He deserved so much better than what had been his fate, but Belle took comfort in the fact that he'd had a good life, all things considered. It had been a simple life, but a good one.

Standing, Belle brushed herself off whispered, "Goodbye, Papa."

Turning, she walked away, determined not to cry or look back. It was time to look ahead to the future, which was bright and promising, despite the uncertainty. It had taken them so long to reach this point. She had to keep moving forward.

Her path led her to Agda's once more. She'd been here only a couple month ago, but it felt like an eternity. The older woman was outside, and smiled a wrinkled smile as she saw Belle walking toward her. Dropping her broom, she rushed toward the younger woman and clutched her tightly in a warm and loving embrace.

"I've been thinking of you all day, and now here you are!" Agda declared with a smile, "It must be that magical husband of yours, knowing I'm thinking of my dear girl."

Belle gripped Agda firmly, and the resolve she'd demanded of herself broke, and the tears began to pour out. It was bittersweet, and she wished she could be stronger, but if anyone could help her regain the strength she needed, it would be Agda. She'd always been good about knocking sense into people, and Belle relied on that same tough love now.

"Oh dear," Agda said as she led Belle inside her home, "What has he done now."

Belle laughed in spite of herself. "Oh, Agda," She whispered, "We're going to find Bae!"

The woman let out a joyful sound and squeezed Belle tight. "Oh you had me worried with those large tears of yours!" She declared, wiping at Belle's cheeks with her thumb, "I thought you were bearing bad news."

Belle's smile faltered and Agda's hand froze. "Oh no, love," she said, "You do come bearing bad news."

Belle nodded. Taking the woman's hand, Belle said, "We have to leave," Belle said softly, "To get to Bae. We finally found a way to get to him, but once we leave we won't be able to come back."

Glancing down, Belle shut her eyes, knowing that she couldn't bear to see the disappointment in Agda's face. She heard the older woman sniffle, then Belle's chin was being lifted. She opened her eyes to see Agda smiling at her with motherly affection.

"You do what you must, love," She encouraged, "Your son needs you."

Belle wrapped her arms around the other woman and held tight. "I know," she whispered, "But I'm going to miss you."

"And I you, dear," Agda cried, "But I'm not your boy, and he comes first."

Belle nodded against the other woman's shoulder. "Thank you for everything," Belle whispered, "For caring for me when Rumple was gone, for being my friend, for not hating us."

"Oh, I could never hate you, love," the woman said, "Though I do question your taste in men."

Belle laughed despite herself and squeezed Agda hard. She would miss the older woman's dry wit.

"I know," Belle said, "Most people do."

They laughed, then Agda pulled away. Wiping at her eyes, she smiled, "Well, you're going to need some supplies for your trip," she said, turning to grab some things off her shelf. She paused when Belle didn't let go. "What's wrong?"

Belle shook her head, then reached into the pocket of her cloak. She pulled out a small pouch and offered it to the woman. "I want to give you something," Belle said, "Please take it."

Agda took the pouch slowly and peeked in, jerking her head up a moment later. "I cannot take this!" She handed the pouch back to Belle, who pushed it back to her friend.

"Rumple can spin gold," Belle said with a grin, "We have more than enough to make us rich in this new world. I want to make sure you're comfortable. It's all I can give you, all I have to show how grateful I am for your friendship. I know it isn't sentimental, but I would feel better knowing that you are well cared for, as you have always cared for me. Please take it."

"You've made me the wealthiest woman in the village," Agda said in awe as she looked at the contents once more.

"Spend it wisely, then," Belle said with a smile.

Agda hugged her again, not hiding her tears as she said, "You're spoiling me dear."

"I'm taking care of the people I love."

Agda pressed a kiss to Belle's cheek. "I love you too. I never had a child of my own, but I'd like to think, had I been blessed with one, she'd have been remarkably similar to you."

Tears stung Belle's eyes once more and she reached out to hug Agda. "Thank you," she whispered, "You are like a mother to me. I will never forget your kindness."

Pulling away, Agda wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Let's get you some tea, love. And does your husband need anything for his leg? He's been prancing around as if he's perfectly fine, but it never hurts to make sure."

Agda had no idea how right she was to make the suggestion. Belle smiled. "I think he would appreciate that."

"Well, let's get you set up dear. I can't have you going off to some new world without making sure you're well looked after. Gods know they won't have someone as good as me to care for you."

Laughing, Belle replied, "No one can ever compare to you Agda. You are true master of your craft."

Agda smiled. "You're damn right I am."

~000~

The shepherd had been astounded by the generous gift of sheep. Of course the family knew who he was, and had been hesitant to accept a gift, knowing all too well that Rumplestiltskin never did anything for free. There was no magic involved in the exchange, save for the little he used to magically move the animals from one place to another, but it was so trivial that he wasn't interested in making the poor man pay for it. But they'd been so nervous that he ended up telling them that if they wanted a deal, he'd give them the sheep in exchange for their silence on the matter. The deal was struck, and Rumplestiltskin was on his way.

He didn't want to find Belle just yet, knowing she would most likely still be with Agda, and though he was fond of the woman, it was best to let Belle enjoy her company alone. He would join her later, as he had something to give Anna and Moraine as well, but until then, he had some time to spare.

A thought entered his head, and he disappeared. When he reappeared, it was at a cemetery. There were numerous mounds where bodies had been laid, and Rumple walked through the rows until he stopped at a lonely stone at the end of one of the middle rows. Sitting down cross-legged, Rumplestiltskin stared at the stone for a long while before waving his hand and producing a small bouquet of flowers and laying it against the small stone.

His fingers traced over the name that was roughly carved, and he smiled sadly. "Hello, Adi."

He was met with silence, and Rumple let his head hang low. The regret he'd felt all those years ago began to swell up once more, and his chest tightened from the pain. He was so ashamed of how he'd left these men to die, but though they'd all been met with an unfair end, it was Adi's death that stood out as the most unfortunate.

"I should have come sooner, my friend," Rumple sighed as he plucked some of the grass near the stone and began braiding the pieces together. "I've no excuse. I should have been here." He laughed bitterly, and looked away, over the rows and rows of markers that lined the ground. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

He pulled at more grass, unable to stop fidgeting. He was not the Dark One here. He was a soldier who'd survived when his brother's-in-arms had not, and even after so many years, Rumplestiltskin was not quite able to forgive himself for this. It was just one more mistake on his long list of regrets, and right up with losing his son, Rumplestiltskin regretted leaving Adimar to such a wretched fate.

"I'm so sorry Adi," he sighed, "Sorry for everything. I wish I could have been brave like you." He stopped and spared a smile. "Bae is. He's so smart and brave. You would have liked him. You could have taught him how to be a true fighter, shown him how to handle a sword."

"And Belle. Oh you would have loved Belle. And she would have been so fond of you. You two would have been quite a force together," Rumple's lips turned up into a small smile. "I'd have never stood a chance against the two of you."

Rumple went quiet for a long while, unsure of what else to say. It hadn't occurred to him until Belle had mentioned visiting her father that he should pay his own respects, and now he hardly knew what to say to a man who deserved so much more than his ramblings.

"I'm leaving, Adi," Rumple said at last. "I lost my son, but Belle and I are going to find him. I'm giving up the power I've acquired – I'll spare you that awful story – and we're going to start a new life together. And I wanted to thank you, Adi, for what you did. What you've done. I hope one day to be as good a man as you thought I was."

Rumple knelt down and pressed his hand to the stone in one last gesture to his friend. "Goodbye, Adimar."

With that, Rumplestiltskin vanished from the cemetery to find Belle. They had one last thing they needed to do.

~000~

Belle sat on the floor of her old home, even more dusty and dilapidated than before. Known as the home of the Dark One, no one wanted to go near the home, but no one dare destroy the place out of fear that Rumplestiltskin would come back for revenge. It was a safe place to meet, guaranteed not to have anyone poking around who shouldn't be there.

Moraine and Anna sat across from her on the dirty floor, trying their best not to cry as they listened to Belle explain the situation to them.

"You really are going to find him?" Moraine said softly, and Belle hated to hurt the girl in this way.

"Yes."

"But you can't come back."

Belle shook her head. "No, sweetheart, it was hard enough finding a way to get to him. I don't think there's going to be a way back."

Moraine sniffed and ducked her head, and Anna rubbed her friend's back soothingly.

"But you're going to find Baelfire," the blonde said with a grin, "You'll be a family again."

Belle nodded. "We will." She gave the girl's a soft look, "Though I hope you both know I've always considered you two my daughters. I'm going to miss you both so much." She smiled at them, noticing that Moraine was looking at her with a thoughtful gaze.

"I wish I could go with you," Moraine said softly, "I'd love to see him again."

"I've felt the pain of losing a child; I don't think you want to put your own parents through that same pain."

The girls turned and Belle looked up to see Rumplestiltskin standing before him, his features soft as he took in the three girls he treasured so dearly. Moraine stood and moved to the Dark One, hugging him close, much to Rumple's surprise. "I understand," she sighed, "I just miss him."

"I know you do," Rumplestiltskin said softly, kneeling down so that he could look her in the eye. "Why don't you write him a letter? I'll see that he gets it."

Moraine's eyes lit up, and Rumple produced ink and parchment for her. She quickly knelt on the floor and began to write furiously. Rumple turned to face Anna and grinned, "Do you have anything you'd like to say to Baelfire?"

She nodded and once more Rumple produced the necessary tools to let them communicate with their friend.

"Be sure to say everything you want him to hear," Rumple instructed, "I'm not sure if Belle told you but this may be the last time you see us."

The girls nodded as they continued to write quickly, and it allowed Rumplestiltskin a moment to watch them without their knowledge. He remembered when they were just children, scared of a war they should not have had to fight. Moraine had been badly injured, though no one was the wiser thanks to his magic. He'd been unable to save Anna's brother, the first of many harsh lessons that proved magic was not always the answer.

To see them grown into beautiful young women warmed Rumple's heart. They were wonderful girls, and it gave him hope that when he next saw his boy, he would be looking into the eyes of a handsome young man.

At length, the girls finished their letters, and once back in Rumple's hands, he sealed them with magic, promising that they would only be opened by Baelfire's hand.

"Now there's something I'd like to give you," Rumplestiltskin said, lowering himself to his knees in front of the girls. They sat down eagerly, awaiting whatever it was he had for them. He waved his hand and produced a map.

"Do you see this place?" Rumple asked, pointing with a darkened nail to a spot on the map.

"That's the Dark Castle," Anna said, explaining when Rumple gave her a confused look, "It's what everyone calls your castle."

Laughing, Rumple glanced up at Belle. "Well that's not very clever, is it?"

Belle shook her head, "Indeed not. Doesn't inspire much fear, if you ask me."

Moraine laughed and Anna flushed. Rumple continued. "We won't be needing that castle anymore, once we leave."

The girls glanced at each other, sharing looks of sorrow between them. They remained silent as Rumplestiltskin continued, "We are taking only what we need with us. Gold, clothing, food. A few trinkets. But there is so much that will be left behind, and it would be a shame if it were to all go to waste."

Rumple produced with a swish of his hand two gold keys and held them out for each girl to take.

"It would be a shame for everything I've collected over the past few years only collected dust. That's why I'm giving you two possession of the 'Dark Castle.'"

Three sets of eyes widened as he spoke, and the girls began to protest instantly, while Belle remained silent and watched on with curious awe.

"We can't take the castle, Rumplestiltskin," Anna stated, "It's cursed!"

Rumplestiltskin laughed, "It's no more cursed than Belle is, dear," he said, "And at any rate, this key is enchanted to only open certain doors. The rest will be sealed off so that no one can enter. The kitchen, library, great hall, all rooms that are safe will be the only ones accessible."

Neither girl moved to take a key. "How will we know it's safe?" Anna asked. Belle glanced down at Moraine who had been the more silent of the two, not surprised to see her eying the key wonderingly.

"Because I'd never do anything to harm either of you," Rumple said gently, "The castle has wards to protect it from unwanted guests. And the key will only open the doors it's been enchanted to unlock. No one will be able to break those wards, and you will be perfectly safe to come and go as you please. Though, it will be best if you tell no one that you have access to our old home."

"How will we get there?" Moraine asked, reaching out for the key."

"You'll simply walk in here," Rumple said, gesturing around them. "I've put an enchantment on it as well, so that only the two of you can enter. Go through there, and you'll enter the foyer of the castle. All the gold, food, clothing, and books are yours for the taking. It can be your home, or you can never set foot inside. It's entirely up to you two."

"Why are you giving it to us?" Moraine spoke up at last, and Rumple looked upon her with sadness.

"Because you both deserve so much better," he said, "And I want to do what I can to make sure that the two people Baelfire cared about most are well looked after. And if that's only by ensuring you have enough gold, money, and books to split between the two of you, then that's what I'll do." Rumple dropped his head for a moment, "I know material possessions aren't the most important thing, but it's all I have to offer you."

Leaning forward, Moraine wrapped her arms around Rumple. She was small, and her head fit neatly underneath Rumple's chin. "Thank you," she whispered, before scooting back.

"You're both very welcome."

Moraine took the key from Rumple and cradled it in her hand carefully. When nothing happened, Anna stretched out her own hand and took the remaining key. "I hope you find Bae," she said as she gripped the key tightly.

"Thank you girls."

They all stood and hugged, and Belle and Rumple shared a look over the top of the girl's heads. They'd made their peace, said goodbye, and now it was time to go.

Belle hugged each girl individually, and pressed kisses to their cheeks before stepping out of the shack with Rumplestiltskin. The girls followed behind and watched as The Dark One and his wife vanished from sight. Moraine and Anna stood silently in the wake of their disappearance, each gripping their key tightly.

"I'm not sure I want to use the key," Anna admitted. At Moraine's look, she clarified, "I'm not afraid, I just….want to leave it alone. In case they ever manage to come back."

"Maybe we can keep it clean for them," Moraine suggested, then brightly added, "We can be its caretakers! Keep anyone from ever trying to take it."

"I like the sound of that," Anna said with a grin, "The caretakers of the Dark Castle. It makes me feel powerful!"

"Like we're important."

Moraine nodded, staring off toward the horizon, thoughts of a day when Baelfire might walk through the door and into her life once again filling her head. She felt hopeful. "Like we're important," she agreed.

~000~

Arriving back in the work room, Belle slumped against Rumple and cried, the emotional toll finally too much for her to bear. She was saying goodbye to too many things too quickly, and Rumple wished he could ease her pain, but knew that would only come when they held their son safely in their arms once more.

Pulling back from her, Rumple kissed her and moved her to a chair so that she could sit. He knelt before her, doing his best to comfort her until her tears subsided. When she calmed, she smiled at him wearily and leaned forward to kiss him.

"We're almost ready," she sighed, looking down as she took his hands in hers.

"Yes," Rumple said, remembering with great dread that he still had one last call to make. "Regina."

"She needs to know."

"I know."

Belle let go of his hands and motioned him away. "I'm all right," she said, giving him her best smile. "I have some more packing to do. You need to close this one last door so we can leave."

He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. "I'll be back soon."

"Be safe."

He bowed low, then vanished again to face the last obstacle standing between him and his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and the epilogue!
> 
> How will Regina handle Rumple's news? (hint: not well.)
> 
> Thank you for your continued support. It is so greatly appreciated. :-)
> 
> Chapter 49 will be up on Halloween!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	49. From Where We Started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think we both lost sight," Belle said, "But I think we've also come a long way from where we started."

Chapter 49: From Where We Started

Rumple appeared in a dark room with vaulted ceilings, the walls, ceiling, and floor as black as the soul who resided therein. He stepped forward cautiously, glancing around to see if he were being spied upon. Regina wasn't as sneaky as all that, but she liked to pretend to have the upper hand at times.

While he waited for her to arrive, he took the opportunity to look around the room. It was clearly a private space, meant for her alone. Near the large fireplace were two armchairs, but other than that, there was no indication that anyone save the queen herself was welcome in this room. Walking around, Rumple idly ran his fingers over her possessions, a small hand mirror, comb, and bottles of what Rumplestiltskin supposed was perfume. There was a tea tray on a smaller table to his right, but only one cup and saucer were laid out.

It was apparent that Regina didn't entertain much.

"Can I help you?"

Rumplestiltskin turned around slowly, brow raising at the sight of an elderly man dressed in fine, black attire. He was dressed too properly to be a mere servant though he carried himself with a faux air of stern submissiveness. It was immediately clear to Rumplestiltskin who this man was, and he suddenly know how to turn his meeting with Regina in his favor.

"I have urgent business to discuss with the Queen," Rumplestiltskin said with a dramatic wave of his hand, "If you would be so kind as to fetch her for me."

"There will be no fetching required, Rumplestiltskin," Regina's voice ricocheted around the walls, "I'm right here."

She appeared just beside the man, whose lips turned up in a warm smile, though his eyes remained dark with sorrow. Rumple watched as Regina touched the man's shoulder and whispered something to him. The man nodded, then with another curt nod toward Rumplestiltskin he turned and exited the room.

When he was gone, Regina looked up, smirking with blood red lips. Her dark eyes shone with delightful wickedness and she stepped forward gracefully, the long train of her cape flaring out behind her steps.

"What can I do for you, Rumplestiltskin?" She asked, emphasizing the latter half his name as a reminder of the run-in she'd had with Belle. She seemed delighted that she'd managed to ruffle the girl's feathers. Had it not been that he was about to ruin the queen's life, he may have made a snide remark on the subject. But his wife and son were waiting for him, and he wanted to waste as little time here as possible. So he swallowed his nasty comeback and instead got straight to the point.

"We need to talk, Regina."

She perked up, bearing her teeth in a smile that was entirely predatory. "About the curse?"

Grimly, Rumple nodded. "Yes, about the curse."

Suddenly more obliging, Regina motioned for Rumple to sit in the second armchair by the fire. Taking the other seat, she smoothed out the wrinkles from her outfit and waited for Rumplestiltskin to join her. When he remained standing, she frowned, and pulled herself to sit up straighter, shoulder snapped back and chin held high. "What news do you have for me?" Her tone was now less appeasing. It amazed Rumplestiltskin how quickly her mood shifted. She did not control herself as well as she might like to think, and that would be her downfall in this. Rumplestiltskin could read her like a book.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to renege our arrangement." It was blunt, entirely unlike the character he'd created over the past couple years, but he was about to but the façade of the Dark One to rest; there was no point in pretending anymore when he had nothing here to lose.

Regina shot out of her seat and in his face in an instant. " _What?_ "

"You heard me, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said, lifting a hand and, using one finger, gently pushed her away from him. "I no longer have need of your services. Therefore, I've no need to finish, nor give you, the curse."

"How dare you!" Regina shouted, stomping forward, "You can't just promise me the world and then take it back on a whim!"

Making a face, Rumple said, "Actually, that's exactly what I'm doing."

"You _can't!_ " Fire lit up the tips of her fingers, and she held her hand out to him, flames flickering as wildly as her anger. "You are going to give me that curse."

"Afraid not."

She stepped closer and lifted her hand to him, the ball of fire in her hand dangerously close to him. "I beg to differ. I want that curse, and I _always_ get what I want." She paused and smirked, though Rumplestiltskin could see the panicked desperation behind the false display of confidence, "Even if I have to _kill_ you to get it. I will have my happy ending."

Before she could act, Rumplestiltskin lifted his own hand and gripped hers in a hard, unrelenting grasp. The fire she held burned him but he resisted crying out, needing to prove a point. Regina panicked at the hard grip on her, and struggled to pull her hand away. At length, her fire subsided, and only then did Rumplestiltskin let go, shaking his hand just slightly to allow his magic to heal the throbbing wound.

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that to kill me, dearie," Rumplestiltskin sneered, stepping forward menacingly. Regina stepped back, eyes wide in fear. Rumple stopped his progression and spoke again, "You were a means to an end, dearie," he began, "One I never wanted to use, but when I thought I had no other choice, I came to you. Now I no longer have need of your…..services. _You're_ useless to _me_ now."

With that the angry, belligerent queen seemed to vanish right before Rumplestiltskin's eyes. He watched as her confidence and self-assertion deflated, until all that was left of the enraged royal was a scared and confused little girl. Her wide eyes filled with tears and she spoke with a tone that was softer and more honest than he'd ever heard her. "That's not fair."

"Life's not fair, dearie," Rumple said, not allowing himself to fall for her little display. He was certain she was hurt, but her pain was nothing compared to the pain he had once promised to let her unleash on the world. This way, only one soul was hurt. It was better than condemning thousands to live a cursed existence when they'd done nothing to deserve having their lives uprooted. One person's happiness in exchange for an entire realm's seemed a reasonable price to pay, though Rumplestiltskin knew he would bear the guilt of this encounter for many years to come. "I'm sorry it had to be this way." He was honest in that, he realized. For all that he didn't care for her, for all that she was a cruel and terrible person, Rumple also understood the corruptive power of magic. He'd allowed it to take away his happiness once.

But he'd learned his lesson. He doubted Regina could be made to see reason.

"No you're not," she snapped. Then, as changing as the tide, the rage and anger from before manifested itself again, turning the sad little girl into the bitter queen, and she stepped forward with a blaze of indignant wrath, causing Rumplestiltskin to step back in surprise.

"Give me the curse," she said, thrusting out her hand expectantly, "I'll finish it. I'll cast it. You're useless to me."

"You don't want that, dearie."

"Don't tell me what I want!" Regina yelled, "You have no idea what it is I want! Now give me the curse!"

Rumple produced the scroll and waved it in front of her. "If you truly want it, I'll give it to you," he said, "But you'll have to pay the price to cast it."

"I don't care what the price is!" Regina roared, "I already agreed to it! Just give me the curse!"

She reached for it, but Rumple stepped back, pulling his hand just out of reach of her long-nailed grip. "You say that," he said, "But I can't imagine you truly mean it."

Regina huffed, magic once more swirling at her fingertips. "What's the price, then?" She demanded, "Your deal was that I cast it regardless of the price, so why do you suddenly care whether or not it affects me?"

"Because my wife believes it only fair that you know the cost of your potential actions."

"Wife?" Regina raised a brow at the term, her face twisted in a manner that suggested she could hardly imagine anyone would ever want such a man as himself for a husband. But Regina didn't know Belle.

"The woman you were so callous to on your last visit to my castle," Rumplestiltskin explained, "Which didn't exactly endear you to me any, by the way."

Rolling her eyes, Regina let the subject drop. Rumplestiltskin's wife was of little importance to the matter at hand for her, so she crossed her arms and asked, "What is the price for casting the curse, since you seem to suddenly care so much about it?"

"The heart of the thing you love most."

Her head flew back as laughter spewed from her lips. It was dry and harsh, and left a foul bitterness in the air. When her laughter ceased, she lowered her eyes to Rumplestiltskin and hissed, "The thing I love most is dead because of Snow White!"

"Is there no one else you truly love?" Rumple asked in a mimicking tone. He watched as Regina continued to glare, and he knew the moment she realized what he meant by the way her face fell and her shoulders slumped. All fire and rage snuffed out of her in an instant and she sank to the ground, all pride and certainty forgotten.

"Get out," she hissed at length, "And take you worthless curse with you."

Rumple nodded and turned, halting only when Regina spoke up once more. "My mother was right you know," she said, her voice breaking as she tried to fight away her tears, "The Dark One can't be trusted."

Giggling impishly, Rumple spun around. "She's probably right, but I've never met your mother."

Regina started, "But you said-"

"I said what I needed to say, dearie," he said, his voice losing all luster and pitch, "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Why did you do this?" She asked, "Why use me and then forsake me? Why were you like everyone else?"

Rumple hesitated a moment before answering, "Becausethe world is a cruel place," he said at length, "And I'm not a good man. Not yet, at least."

"Get out."

With a final bow, Rumplestiltskin vanished, leaving a despondent Regina in her solitude.

~000~

Belle stood in her bedchamber, looking wistfully over everything she possessed. It wasn't difficult to decide what to take with her. They had no idea where they were going or how long it would be until they could settle down in the new world, so it was best to be prepared for anything. Thankfully Rumplestiltskin had used magic on the bag so that it would hold as much as she needed. She packed carefully though, uncertain if the magic would hold once they arrived in the new world. A few dresses, plenty of undergarments, stockings, and a pair of sturdy boots would be enough. She added a thick cloak as well, and decided that would have to do for the present. She paused a moment, then dug through her wardrobe and pulled out the old, tattered blue dress that Rumple had made for her during their courtship. Smiling softly at the now-ragged dress, she folded it carefully and placed it in the bag as well. It was a sentimental piece, but one she had no desire to leave behind.

She packed some clothing for Rumplestiltskin as well, leaving behind all the ridiculous costumes in favor of simple breeches, boots, silk shirts and some vests. They needed to be practical. When she was satisfied with that, she picked up another back and placed a few trinkets and books inside. She had struggled the most with deciding which books to take, but ultimately had chosen her eight favorites, as well as one of the tomes that Rumplestiltskin had written. She added Bae's shawl, and a couple trinkets she had left of her father, as well as the herbs and medicines Agda had gifted her.

Next she wandered into the kitchen and packed another bag full of food. Several flasks of water, one of wine, some bread, cheese, and dried fruits filled the basket. She added some salted meat, uncertain of how much food to pack, then pulled the meat back out of the bag. She would make up for that with plenty of gold, and they could purchase food when they needed it, instead of lugging around so many bags. At any rate, Belle thought as she returned to Bae's room and retrieved Rumple's old staff, Rumple would not be able to do much heavy lifting once they stepped through.

It was a sad thought, knowing that her husband would once again become a lame man. He would manage, as he always had, but the sorrow she felt was not lifted by that thought. She wished, of all the things that they were about to lose, that his mobility would not be one of them. That True Love's kiss could heal wounds as well as curses.

She gripped the staff, fingers running over the markings etched therein as a reminder of how Bae had grown over the years. Belle smiled as she imagined Bae, probably taller than both her and Rumplestiltskin at this point. Belle's father had been a tall man, and the way Bae had always grown made Belle certain that soon she would be looking up to her son.

Solemn but satisfied, Belle lifted the bag and moved to the great hall, where she filled three small purses with gold thread. She added some more to the bag of food just to be safe, and then wrapped a long thread of it around her wrist, tying it in a knot. That would have to be enough she decided, and with one last look around the room, she left, heading up to Rumple's work room to wait for him there.

With that settled, she moved back to the work room where the tree resided. The portal within had held strong, which honestly surprised Belle. She stood before the tree, dropping the two bags on the ground next to a third bag which contained a few of her personal, treasured belongings. Among them were Bae's shawl, a few books, and the old dress Rumple had made during their courtship. It was old and tattered, but special, and Belle hadn't been able to part with it.

With their few belongings packed for their journey, all that was left was to wait or Rumple.

~000~

Belle entered the work room, surprised to see Rumplestiltskin sitting in the armchair she frequented, rolling a scroll in his hands. Frowning, Belle lowered the bags to the ground and stepped forward. Her heels echoed on the stone floor, causing Rumple to look up from his pensive thoughts.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Belle replied, moving to sit on Rumple's lap. He welcomed her into his arms, and didn't protest when she pulled the scroll out of his hands. She opened it, brow furrowing when she couldn't read the words written on it. She stared for a long time at it and Rumple watched as she observed the curse that would have ruined so many lives.

"How did she take it?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Not well."

At Belle's dry gaze, Rumple elaborated, "She threatened to kill me. So I told her the truth."

"And?" Belle prompted.

Rumple took the scroll from Belle, and let a burst of magic shoot out from his hand. When the purple smoke cleared, all that remained in Rumplestiltskin's hand was ash. "And no one will be getting cursed anytime soon. At least not by anything my hands have touched."

Slumping against Rumple, Belle sighed, "Good."

They sat for several minutes, and in their silence, Rumple allowed himself a moment to glance about the room. Among all the rooms in the castle, this had been the one in which they'd spent the most time. They'd grown in this room, both individually and together, and Rumple could see the sorrow in Belle's eyes to be leaving it all behind. No matter what they said about willingness to sacrifice everything to reunite with their son, there was still a slight reluctance to leave behind their home.

But home was with Bae, and that was what kept them both going.

Moving Belle off his lap, Rumple stood and took Belle's hand. She smiled up at him nervously, and for a brief moment, he felt young again, as if he were a mere peasant standing in front of her father's house, anticipating a good night kiss.

"Are you ready?" He asked softly.

"I am," she said, then reached up to run her fingers through Rumple's curly hair. "It's going to be strange," she mused, "Seeing you as a regular man again."

With a chuckle, Rumple captured her hand in his and brought it down for a kiss. "Don't tell me you're going to miss this," he said with a wide gesture to himself.

Belle shrugged. "I think I might a little," she admitted, "There's something….appealing about you like this. Though, it will be nice to see the man I fell in love with."

"He's always been in here," Rumple said, pressing their joined hands to his chest, "He just lost sight of himself for a while."

"I think we both lost sight," Belle said, "But I think we've also come a long way from where we started."

"Indeed we have," Rumple agreed.

Belle glanced down at their hands, still pressed to Rumple's chest. She leaned forward, resting her head against their hands and asked, "What do you think this world will be like?"

She felt Rumple shrug. "I've no idea. But there's only one way to find out."

Belle nodded and moved to pick up the bags. Rumple followed, grabbing the closest one, grunting under its weight. "What on earth did you pack?" He asked, aghast.

"Necessities," Belle said meekly, her cheeks warming when Rumple opened the bag and peered inside, seeing the books she packed inside. He glanced at her with a wry grin, then turned and moved over to the shelf that contained numerous potions. He picked up a vial that Belle recognized as True Love and slipped it inside as well.

"You never know," he shrugged. Could come in handy one day.

"What about the rest of this stuff," Belle asked. "What will become of it?"

Rumplestilstkin waved his hand, and before Belle's eyes the room became barren. "Locked away in the vault below the basement of the castle," Rumple explained, "Unreachable to anyone but myself."

"Then it's safe for the girls? Should they ever come?"

"It is."

"Then let's go," Belle said, picking up two bags. "I've packed clothing, food, gold. We shouldn't want for anything for a while." She paused, then handed Rumplestiltskin his staff. "Just in case."

"Clever wife," Rumple praised quietly, "You think of everything."

"I know it's going to be a major adjustment," Belle said softly, gesturing to the staff, "But you won't have to go through it alone."

"You'll carry me," Rumple whispered, their promise on the forefront of his mind.

"Yes," Belle said, "I will."

"I love you, Belle," Rumple said.

"I love you too."

Cradling the stick under his arm, he pulled Belle to him and pressed his lips to hers. She melted into his embrace, allowing herself to be swept up in his love and held him tightly. When at last they separated, Belle was crying. Rumple wiped them all away silently, and pressed one last kiss to her lips.

Stepping back, he waved his hand over himself. Whereas before he looked ferocious in spikes and dragon hide, now he looked slightly more normal in a simple silk shirt and dark waistcoat. Belle smiled appreciatively at him, and he smirked before waving his hand once more, the dagger with his name appearing a moment later.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "I'd forgotten all about the dagger!"

"Good," he said, "That was my goal. If anyone had known to take this, we would have been in great trouble."

"Thankfully you won't need it after this," Belle said with a relieved sigh, "You'll be free."

Rumple nodded. "Aye," he said, "I can't say I'll miss being bound to it."

Belle approached him and ran a finger down the flat of the blade. Rumple shivered in response. "I'll be glad to be rid of it too," she agreed. "So many changes all at once."

"But it will be worth it," Rumple said.

"It will."

Sheathing the dagger, Rumple gripped his walking staff, hoisted up his bag and took Belle's hand.

"It's time," he said.

Belle squeezed his hand firmly and nodded. "Let's go find Bae."

They both took a breath, then stepped through the portal. The swirling glow of the portal radiated brightly, then dimmed until there was nothing but a large hole. The candles extinguished, and the magic that buzzed through the walls settled, waiting for the day when someone would step through its doors and bring life inside once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And all that's left is the epilogue!
> 
> Thank you everyone who has been with me on this journey. It was last week that marked one year that I've been posting this story, and I can hardly believe it. What a year it's been!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.


	50. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He would do things right this time around, he decided firmly. He would be a man his family could be proud of.

Chapter 50: Epilogue

_Five Months Later_

Rumplestiltskin walked down the busy street blending in easily for the first time in his life. He nodded politely to a few gentlemen who passed, and received an equally civil tip of the hat in return. He was one of them, he thought idly. Like them, he was dressed impeccably, adopting the stylish fashion of the new world: wool trousers, vest, shirt and tie. He had forgone a jacket on this day, the weather surprisingly warm for the first time since their arrival in the strange land called London.

It was strange, Rumple admitted as he made his way down the street, his old peasant's staff long since exchanged for a gold tipped cane. London held many similarities to the old world, and yet was distinctly different. It was odd that the land could be both, but it was. There was no magic, and therefore no magical creatures or Dark Ones to prey upon the rest of the magic-less populous, but there were other forms of monstrosity, which had existed in the old world as well as this one.

The divide between peasants and the wealthy was polarizing and evident. The poor starved and suffered while the wealthy passed by, noses in the air, on their way to a fancy dinner or gala event. Rumple, who had the rare experience of living on both ends of the spectrum, turned his own nose up at the rich elite who seemed eager to make his acquaintance, but made certain to not neglect those who reached out helplessly, begging for _anything_ to let them survive another day.

In the short time since they'd arrived, Rumplestiltskin – known in this land as the foreign and wealthy businessman Wallace Gold who was on an extended honeymoon with his young bride – had endeared himself to the poor, knowing all too well the struggle, though he never made mention of it when questioned by anyone for the reason of his kindness. Instead he merely said it was the 'Christian thing to do', a term of which he only had a vague understanding, but it appeased those around him, and he left the explanation at that.

Pulling out the watch from his breast pocket, Rumple scowled at the time. He was due to collect Belle in five minutes, but at this rate, he would be late. He smirked as he thought of the inevitable scenario: Belle would be standing on the stoop of their mid-town London home, foot tapping impatiently. That was one thing Rumplestiltskin was glad hadn't changed: his wife's name. He'd never been fond of his own name, but Belle's name was lovely, and he couldn't imagine her going by something else. Nothing else suited his wife. She had protested him changing his own name, but he'd insisted, claiming Rumplestiltskin was a little too different and might raise questions. He'd seen the name he ended up taking on a sign near the place where they'd taken residence. The documents needed to rent a home had been easy enough to forge, and within two weeks of arriving in the new world, they'd settled in a small townhouse, claiming they would remain until the desire to travel once more struck their fancy.

The fact that they were really looking for their long lost son was not mentioned and of no concern to anyone but himself and Belle.

"Mr. Gold, you are late, sir!"

Rumple looked up to see Belle, standing exactly where and how he'd imagined her, arms crossed and a scowl struggling to remain on her lips. Bowing low at the foot of the steps, Rumple smirked. "My apologies, my lady. I hope I've not kept you waiting too long?"

"Not that long," Belle admitted, descending the stairs until she stood one step above her husband, "Though just because I'm willing to wait for you forever, doesn't mean you actually have to keep me waiting!" She winked at him, a playful smile on her lips. Rumplestiltskin reached out to take her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Allow me to make it up to you?"

Belle smiled at him, and lifted her other hand to brush his hair out of his face. It was strange to once again see her husband as an ordinary man. For so long she'd been used to scaled, greenish-gold skin and wild, curly hair. She found herself longing for that old version of him sometimes, but recalled the blackened teeth and nails and decided that, while she'd loved her husband dearly as the Dark One, perhaps this form better suited him. But no matter what form he took, human with skin that was beginning to wrinkle around the eyes and greying hair, or scaled skin and a wicked, impish laugh, she loved him completely and was grateful that they'd overcome all odds to arrive in the land without magic.

Rumple caught Belle's other hand and, after pressing another kiss to it, he gently tugged her down from the step onto the sidewalk and tucked her arm through his. They stood for a moment in contemplation, then Belle pulled Rumple gently and they set off down the path opposite of where Rumple had come.

It was a tradition, one they'd started the moment they'd arrived in London. Every day, first thing in the morning and every evening near dusk, they would walk the streets of London, hoping that at some point along the way, they might find their son. The residents of their street had asked them one day, about a month into their stay, why they insisted on walking everywhere. Belle had quickly explained that she wanted to see all that London had to offer, and the only proper way to do that was to walk. Some of the ladies they'd become acquainted with sneered, while the gentlemen silently congratulated Gold on having the least pretentious wife on the continent.

Having come out of the portal in the countryside just outside London's gate, they had agreed to search the city thoroughly before deciding where to go next. They'd had no idea where the portal might lead them when they stepped through, but they both firmly believed that it would not lead them astray. So far they'd had no luck, but Belle refused to lose her optimism and as a result, Rumple held fast to his own as well.

Turning down the first street on the right, Rumple and Belle walked leisurely, appearing to be a normal couple out for their regular evening stroll. Despite the slow pace, Rumple felt the beginnings of a painful ache in his leg. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, trying to keep Belle unaware of his discomfort. She would want to turn back if she realized his condition, and he would not stand for that. He'd pressed through many a painful walk without her knowing, and he intended to do so tonight, even though the pain was a little sharper than usual.

"We should go this way," Belle said, pointing to a road they'd not taken in months. Rumple nodded.

"Whatever you wish, my dear."

If Belle noticed the slight grit in his tone, she made no comment and they turned their path to the left, walking toward one of the lower-class neighborhoods.

"He has to be here," Belle whispered as they walked.

"We're going to find him, Belle," Rumple swore as if he had control over the situation.

"I know," Belle agreed, "I just….it's almost been six months."

They'd agreed the night they sat down in their newly rented townhouse that if, after six months had passed, and they hadn't found Baelfire, they would move on to another place. It had been an easy agreement, but the longer they'd stayed, the more certain Belle began to feel that he was here.

"You don't want to go."

"Of course I do!" Belle exclaimed, ducking her head when several eyes turned to regard her. "I just….I _know_ he's here. It's silly, maybe mother's intuition, but I just know he's here somewhere."

"I believe you," Rumple told her, "We can stay a little longer if your certain. Or I could go elsewhere for a month or so and-"

"We are not separating," Belle snapped, then squeezed her husband's arm in apology, "I'm already in a strange land. I don't want to be without you."

"Then I shall stay, and we shall tear this city apart."

Satisfied with that, Belle halted their steps and turned to face her husband. "Let's head back for the night," she said softly, running her hand down Rumple's arm. "Your leg is bothering you."

Rumplestiltskin started, "How did you-"

"Let's call it 'wife intuition'," she said with a smirk, "You're in pain, and you need to rest."

He wanted to argue, but the throbbing was persistent now. He would be no good for the next day if he continued on, and it was nearing dusk. They wouldn't be able to search for Bae in the dark.

"Very well," he sighed, "We shall continue our search tomorrow."

"In the slums," Belle said as she guided them down the road and toward their home.

"If you wish."

Belle had pointed out once that their son had come to this world with no money, no knowledge of the land, and only the clothes upon his back. The chances of him being amongst the poor were greater than anywhere else, and though it broke Rumple's heart to think of his son starving on the streets of London because of his mistake, he kept his guilt shut away. There would be time to beg forgiveness. They searched the slums on occasion, hoping that a loaf of bread or a few coins offered in the name of charity might also loosen lips, but so far none of the poor souls they visited had heard of Baelfire.

"He's got to be here somewhere," Belle insisted, "And we're going to figure out where."

~000~

Once they arrived home, Belle assisted Rumplestiltskin up the stairs to their bedroom, where he collapsed ungracefully onto the bed. Belle handed him his night clothes, then went to her dresser to pull out her own nightgown. Rumple watched admiringly as Belle began to change. Clothing was one of the few similarities of the two worlds. The fashion itself may have been slightly different, but the concepts were the same: petticoats, corsets, and the like were still the norm here. Belle had admitted that the fashion being similar enough was a comfort, because it was one less thing to adjust to. Rumple could appreciate the sentiment. There was enough to adjust to. And the latest fashions were the last thing he cared about. He wore them, thinking he might get farther if he appeared to have wealth – which he did – but more people would be inclined to help a man in a suit than a man in rags. It was a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. So they'd invested in fine clothes and a fine house, all in the hopes that it would be enough to pass muster so they could focus on their task.

Once they were changed, Belle sat at the edge of the bed and lifted Rumple's leg onto her lap. Silently she rolled up his pant leg with care, then reached out for the bottle of Agda's salve Rumple was holding for her. She poured out a small amount, frowning after a moment.

"We're getting low."

"Best to use it sparingly, then," Rumple said, wincing as Belle touched her hand to his leg. It was red, the skin knotted and hard, Belle shook her head.

"You've really outdone yourself this time," she chided as she worked the small amount of salve into his leg. She'd brought the book Agda had given her once long ago, but was no master of the craft. Relucantly, Belle wished she'd become the older woman's apprentice, but such wishes were worthless now. She would have to do the best with what she had and hope she could find a suitable alternative when the time came. Agda had been a master, and Belle was highly skeptical of the skill of the doctors of this world. She began to carefully press and massage the muscles, wincing when Rumple hissed again.

"Maybe we should take tomorrow off," Belle mused as she stood, wiping her hands on a small towel. Rumplestiltskin didn't move, but his eyes followed her as she bustled about the room, his brow creased.

"No."

Belle turned back to give Rumple an annoyed look as he purposely sat up and rolled his pants leg back down. When he finished he reclined against the headboard once more and stubbornly refused to look at her. Rolling her eyes, Belle joined her husband on the bed, curling up next to him closely. The bed wasn't as soft or as large as the one they'd shared in the Dark Castle, but like everything else in this world, it was as good as they could manage. Nothing would ever compare to the comforts of the Dark Castle.

Annoyed that he seemed to be ignoring her suggesting, Belle pressed herself closer to her husband and stared at him hard, willing him to acknowledge her. Finally Rumplestiltskin sighed and turned his head so that he was facing his wife, who was watching him expectantly.

"Belle-" his tone was full of warning.

"Don't you 'Belle' me, Rumplestiltskin," she chided, moving so that she was leaning over him. "You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop overdoing it."

"I'm not overdoing- OW!"

He glanced down to see Belle's finger where it rested against his knee. "I barely touched you." Her brow raised in a manner that dared him to argue, and he sighed in defeat and pulled Belle so that she was resting against his chest.

"We'll see how I feel in the morning," he said at last.

Opening her mouth to protest, Belle was startled when Rumple leaned over and covered her lips with his own. "Deal?" He asked and Belle relented with a sigh.

"Fine." Belle settled against him, her arm coming to rest on his chest where she idly rubbed her husband. "I just don't want you to overdo it," she murmured, "I can tell you're practically in agony."

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart," Rumple said, pressing a kiss to her temple, "I know my limits, and I've not quite reached them yet."

Belle scoffed. "This coming from the man who forgot to eat."

"I was busy."

"Rumple."

He sighed. "Fine. I will rest. But the moment my leg feels better, we are going out."

"That's not going to help the problem."

"I can rest when our son is sleeping in that second bedroom you insisted on."

"He's going to need a place to sleep, Rumple." She retorted matter of fact.

Offering her a sad smile, Rumple raked his fingers through Belle's hair affectionately. "I know."

Seemingly satisfied, Belle lowered her head to rest against him. Content for the moment, Rumple let his hand trail down her back, enjoying the feel of his wife curled up against him. He relished moments like this; these were the moments he lived for, his wife fussing over him while they lounged in bed. He wondered if Belle knew just how grateful he was to have her in his life. He'd not been the best at showing his appreciation of her, he thought grimly. So much time stolen by power and magic. Time better spent adoring the love of his life had been used up trying to correct his most grievous mistake. When we find Bae, he thought to himself, his fingers tangling in Belle's curls, _I'm going to dedicate my life to making sure my family knows they're treasured._

Overwhelmed with the need to start that promise now, Rumple kissed Belle's hair and whispered, "Thank you for caring about me."

"I'm your wife," she murmured against him, clearly sedate and unwilling to move lest she disrupt his ministrations, "I vowed to take care of you forever."

"And you've done an incredible job, sweetheart. I don't know where I'd be without you."

~000~

The next morning, Rumplestiltskin dressed in a grey suit with white shirt and blue tie, then limped his way downstairs. His leg was still sore, but the pain was manageable, and if he could fake his way through breakfast, he thought perhaps he might be able to convince Belle to take a stroll with him to the slums.

He found his darling wife in the kitchen, pouring porridge in a bowl. She looked up with a large, beaming smile at her husband and bounced over to greet him with a kiss.

"Good morning," she whispered against his lips. Growling in delight, Rumple pulled the pot out of her hand and placed it on the table, then wrapped his arms around his wife, dipping her back for a heated kiss.

When he released her, she giggled as she stumbled out of his grasp. "Someone feels better this morning."

"Indeed," he said as he sat down at the head of the table. The porridge in the bowl looked only somewhat appetizing this morning, but it dawned on Rumple that there was nearly half the amount there usually was.

"We're low on food," Belle admitted as she placed a cup of coffee in front of him. The drink was strange and bitter, and Belle had sworn off the stuff after the first sip. Rumple had taken a liking to the drink, though he would always consider himself a tea man. He took a sip of the warm beverage and laughing when Belle cringed.

"Do we need to make a trip to the market?"

Belle nodded, taking a bite of her breakfast. "Probably for the best."

"Then shall we go after breakfast?" Rumple asked. Belle nodded.

"I would be delighted, good sir," Belle said with a giggle, mimicking the manner of speech that was prevalent in the new world. Smiling at her, Rumple took another sip of coffee, and willed his leg to obey.

Once they were finished, Rumple cleaned up – a notion that would leave all the gentlemen he'd come in contact with in his time here scandalized – while Belle made a small list. When they were finished, Rumple wrapped Belle in a shawl, taking a moment to kiss her cheek, and then guided her out the door. A few steps into their journey, Rumple's foot turned and he grunted in pain. Belle paused to look at him in concern.

"Are you all right, Mr. Gold?" Belle asked, careful to use the correct name now they were out in public. Grunting, Rumple straightened himself and gripped his cane.

"Fine, my dear," he insisted, "Let us go on?"

Belle gave him an annoyed look, but Rumple took her arm in his and moved them forward. "I'm all right, I promise."

Belle rolled her eyes and held out her arm. "What you are is a stubborn ass."

That remark caused Rumple great delight. "That's not a very nice thing to call your husband," he laughed as they made their way toward the market. As they walked, Belle talked about how she'd been introduced to their new neighbor the day before while he'd been out on 'business'. Neither Belle nor Rumple were social people, a trait that caused the elite of London to regard them curiously. The fashions and social customs of the new world held little interest to them both, though Belle was more interested in learning the ways of the world than Rumple was. She found, to her dismay that it was as superficial as the world they'd left.

The same could be said about the woman Belle was currently telling Rumple about. She was an upper-class woman, several years younger than Belle, who'd been married off to a rich aristocrat who bore quite the name and wealth. Belle pitied the poor girl who'd been practically sold off; the idea of being forced to marry someone was outrageous, and it was a practice she longed to see done away with. Her new acquaintance agreed, though her reasons were entirely selfish.

"Louise is so vain, and so depressing!" Belle declared, careful of Rumple's leg. "I understand her strife at being practically sold off, but I've met her husband, and he's as mad about her as you are about me."

Rumplestiltskin smirked, "That's saying something."

Belle nodded and carried on, "He's positively besotted with her, but she's too busy complaining about him to notice. He brought her the loveliest bouquet of flowers yesterday when I was visiting, and she complained that she didn't like the color. How ungrateful!"

"Seems she only takes pleasure in complaining," Rumple commented, already disliking the woman who he would no doubt be forced into meeting due to the social demands of the society he'd planted themselves in.

"Indeed!" Belle agreed, "I spoke with her for about an hour, and in that time, she complained about the tea, London, the flowers, her husband's grey hairs, corsets – though that complaint was entirely valid- and goodness knows what else! I eventually stopped listening and just nodded on occasion."

"Did you tell her about your own husbands grey hairs? I wouldn't blame you if you complained as well," he teased.

"Of course not!" Belle declared, stopping long enough to run her fingers through his hair. "I find your grey hairs quite appealing."

They shared a brief kiss and continued to tease each other as they walked, catching the scathing eyes of those who passed by. It wasn't proper to be so public with their affections but Belle hardly cared that the rest of the world wasn't as happily married as she. She loved Rumplestiltskin, all incarnations of him, and she wasn't going to hide that fact because society seemed to think it impolite to be so publicly happy.

They reached the market and, hoisting the basket Belle had brought with her, began to pick out some fresh vegetables while Rumplestiltskin retrieved some bread and fish. Once more they received strange looks, for what wealthy woman did her own shopping, let alone with her husband? Belle ignored the looks as she picked up some apples and tossed them into the basket.

Rumple returned a moment later and produced the amount owed, paying the small girl who was running the stand for her mother, who was currently nursing another child. Satisfied with their purchases, they turned to head home, but on a whim Rumple tugged on her arm and led her down a different route. Belle made no comment on the spur of the moment decision, knowing she would be unable to convince Rumple to rest his leg. She bit her lip, trying to repress her growing smile while thinking of a few ways she might convince her husband to remain in bed.

As they ventured from one street to the next, Belle heard the sound of a dog barking happily. She glanced over to the source of the sound, watching with interest as a small group of children kicked a ball around. The dog ran happily around each child, which made the group, three boys and a girl, all laugh gaily as they played keep away from their pet.

Belle stopped walking, and Rumple followed suit, following her gaze to the children. He recognized the expression on Belle's face as he looked back at her. She was remembering a time when Bae had played a similar game with Moraine and Anna. She has a wistful smile on her face, and Rumple couldn't bear the thought of ushering her along. The clouds hovering overhead signaled that rain was coming and soon, but Belle was watching the children, reminiscing on their own son, and he couldn't bear to tear her away from that memory.

The dog barked again, managing to knock the ball away from the tallest boy whose back was to them.

"Nana, you silly girl!" The boy called as the ball bounced away and toward Rumple and Belle. The boy turned, his eyes cast downward as he ran, but both Rumple and Belle tensed the moment they saw him. Belle gripped Rumplestiltskin's arm tightly and before she could contain herself, she was crying out her son's name.

"Baelfire?"

The boy looked up, the smile on his face slowly slipping to a slack-jawed expression of shock. Belle felt her knees go weak, and Rumple found it hard to breathe. He wrapped an arm around Belle's waist in an effort to support her and keep himself from collapsing.

"Mama?" the boy asked in disbelief, taking a hesitant step closer. "Papa?"

"Oh gods, Bae!"

Dropping the basket, Belle pulled herself away from Rumple and raced forward, crashing into the boy, who wound his arms around her tightly. They sank to the ground, clutching each other as Belle began to cry. Bae clung to his mother, oblivious to the other children behind them. After a moment, Bae turned his head, his tear-filled eyes lifting to meet his father's, who had yet to move from his spot at the edge of the alley. Rumple stood, dumbstruck, at the sight of his son.

Bae tensed slightly at the sight of his father, the memory of the last time they'd been together at the forefront of his mind. Belle seemed to sense her son's reaction, and she let go just enough to turn back and motion her husband forward. Snapping out of his shock, Rumple stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane. He didn't miss Bae's reaction to seeing him back to his old self. He just hoped his boy would find it in his heart to forgive him.

When Rumple reached them, Belle stood, pulling Bae up with her and wrapping her arm around his waist as a comfort to both. As much as he desired it, Rumple didn't reach for his son, afraid if he moved too fast Baelfire might disappear again and this would all be a horrible dream. It wouldn't be the first time such a dream had happened, and so he held his breath, waiting for the inevitable crash that pulled him into reality and left him broken and pained anew.

But then Bae stepped forward, just as hesitantly as Rumple had moved a moment ago, and with trembling arms, his collapsed into him, his sobs echoing throughout the alley. Rumple stumbled from the weight, his leg finally giving out with a painful pop and they fell ungracefully to the ground. Bae hardly seemed to notice, choosing to grip his father tighter as he wept into his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Rumple wound his arms around his son, squeezing tightly as he repeated over and over, "I'm so sorry, Bae. I'm so sorry."

When Bae collected himself, he sat back on his legs, allowing Rumple to sit up as well. Bae regarded him studiously for a moment, then whispered half in awe, "You're human."

"I am," Rumple said, running a hand through his hair.

"But that means you gave up your magic."

Rumple nodded. "I made you a deal, son," Rumple said, "And I never go back on my word. I'm just sorry it took me this long to finally hold up my end."

Eyes full of tears, Bae said, "You let me go."

"A mistake I fully intend to spend the rest of my life making up to you," Rumple said earnestly, "If you'll permit me, I'll explain everything. There are no excuses, but there's so much you should have been told."

Bae sniffed and nodded, then looked up at his mother, who was crying openly at the sight of him. "Mama," he whispered, leaning over to rest his head against her hip. She clutched him tightly and wrapped her hands around his shoulders. "My boy," she replied, kneeling down and pressing her head against his. "You're home."

"Bae?"

Baelfire pulled back slightly, and glanced over his shoulder to see the girl and two other boys standing side by side, watching the scene with confusion. Next to them, Nana sat, eyes fixed on the intruders, looking ready to attack if given the word.

Standing up, Bae wiped his eyes, then gestured to his parents. "These are my parents," he said at length, sounding proud of the fact. "Mama, Papa. This is Wendy, John, and Michael Darling. They're my….brothers and sister."

"But you said your parents were dead," young Michael said innocently, and Bae winced, feeling his parent's eyes fall on him. He'd told them as much, an angry and confused young boy who'd been convinced that he would never see his parents again.

"I was….wrong," Bae admitted sheepishly. "I never thought I'd see them again."

Belle and Rumple shared a pained look, then Belle stood, wiping the dirt off her dress and stepped toward the other children. Wendy looked at her nervously, but Belle offered her a gentle smile. "Maybe someday Baelfire can tell you everything," she told the young girl, "But for now, I think it's time he came home."

Wendy nodded in understanding. "Can we see him again?"

"Of course!" Belle said, telling the girl the address where they were staying. "We owe you and your family our deepest gratitude. You took care of our son. That is not something we will take lightly."

"He's family," John shrugged, "You take care of family. That's what Papa always says."

"Your papa is a smart man," Belle replied. "Now, if you'll excuse us…"

Belle turned, watching as Bae helped his father to stand. His suit was dusty and wrinkled, and his face red from crying, but in that moment he'd never looked so content.

Belle returned to their side and helped support Rumple, while nodding for Bae to go speak to his friends. Stepping forward slowly, Bae looked at Wendy apologetically. Despite wanting to go with his parents, he'd made a family with the Darling children, and though he knew his mother and father would welcome the children with open arms, he felt a pang of sorrow at having to leave them behind. Wendy saw the look on Bae's face and, perceptive sister as she was, offered him an encouraging smile. "Go on, Bae," she said softly, "We'll see you soon."

"Promise?"

Wendy nodded, then hugged Bae tightly. "You'll always be our brother," she said, "But now you don't have to share a room anymore."

Bae laughed, and the sorrowful tension melted. He hugged the boys, and ruffled Nana's fur, then stepped back toward his parents. "I'll see you guys soon."

Wendy wrapped her arms around her youngest brother, who had started to tear up at Bae's departure. "Don't worry, Michael," she soothed as she watched Bae retreat, "He hasn't seen the last of us."

Bae stood before his parents and smiled. "Come on," he said, as he took his mother's hand. "Take me home."

~000~

Baelfire sat in the small sitting room, fidgeting with the tea cup as he stared at his father nervously. Belle had insisted they have time to themselves to talk, but neither seemed to know what to say to the other. She'd always been the mediator, and though it had been a long time since he'd spoken with his father, he suddenly wished his mother was there to be the go-between for them. But she'd insisted that Rumple face his son without her presence, and so Baelfire sat in a wingback chair, sipping fresh black tea and waiting for his father to finally start speaking.

His father was staring at him, which was unsurprising. It had been a few years since they'd last seen each other, but Bae was beginning to feel a bit weary of his father's scrutiny. He couldn't blame him entirely, for wanting to soak up the image. Bae found himself astounded by his father's appearance. He remembered the man before the monster, but so many of his nightmares had been centered on the man with green skin, not the man with the cane and graying hair before him. It was hard to reconcile the two images into the same person, and for the first time Bae wondered just what his parents had sacrificed to get to him. Feeling strange, Bae looked away, and thought not for the first time that he was grateful to have something in his hands with which he could occupy himself.

Taking a sip of tea, Baelfire realized that his father was probably as uncertain what to say as he was. Baelfire had often dreamed of a day when he was reunited with his family, and had rehearsed what he would say thousands of times. But now that he was faced with his father, none of the intricately thought out words seemed to be good enough. He'd planned speeches in which he dismissed his family in favor of the Darlings; he'd planned speeches in which he begged to know why he was let go and what took them so long. Now he wasn't sure what to say or what to think.

He lifted his eyes to his father's once more, and Rumple gripped his tea cup tighter in response. His eyes were pained, and Bae glanced down to where his father's leg was propped up, and not for the first time Bae wondered just what had caused his father's condition. Before he realized what he was doing, he spoke.

"How badly does it hurt?"

Rumple blinked, and his eyes focused more clearly on his son. "Pardon?"

Bae nodded downward. "Your leg."

"Oh," Rumple paused. "Like hell."

"You know, you never told me what happened," Bae mused aloud, "I've heard the stories and rumors, and Mama gave me some vague reason too, but you've never actually told me what you did."

Rumple looked from Bae to his leg and back again. "It's not a pretty tale."

Bae shrugged, "I'm not looking for a bedtime story. I want the truth."

It was a truth long overdue. With a nod, Rumple leaned forward and rolled up the leg of his pants. Bae winced involuntarily at the sight of the damaged leg, his stomach flipping as he tried not to look away in disgust.

"I was told by a seer while I was away at the Ogre Wars that I would be a father," Rumple began, "And that my actions on the battlefield would leave my child fatherless. At first I didn't believe her, but then she said some other things that eventually came true. At that, I began to believe that I would die. I was so afraid; I couldn't abandon you, your mother. So, the night before the largest battle, I…" Rumple paused, steeling himself. Bae watched his father relive the memories, biting his lip nervously as Rumplestiltskin shivered.

"I crushed my leg so I would be dismissed. So I could come home to you."

Bae stared with wide eyes at his father. "You did that to yourself!"

Rumple nodded.

"For…me?"

Again, Rumple nodded, his eyes falling away, not able to look at his son.

"Why?"

Rumplestiltskin's head shot up, looking at Bae with a pained expression in his eyes. "Why?" He asked, aghast, "Because I love you, son."

Baelfire felt tears beginning to fall, but he vigorously ignored them. Instead he swallowed and asked the one thing he'd longed to know since he landed on the other side of the portal. "Then how could you let me go?"

Despite the obvious amount of pain he was in, Rumple stood long enough to kneel in front of Baelfire, his leg stretched out so as to alleviate some of the pain. He laid his hand on Bae's, which was still gripping the cup in a white-knuckled hold.

"Because the last time I went through a portal like that, I learned that my father didn't love me."

Then it all came spilling out, and Bae sat in mute shock as he listened to the tale of his father's wretched life. None of the things Rumple spoke of had ever been mentioned before, and Bae was astounded at just how little he knew his father. He listened as Rumple spoke of the man who used a little boy's hope at a new life and then abandoned him for eternal youth. He listened to Rumple's life with the spinsters, shunned by the village for being the son of such a man. He listened as Rumple explained how seeing his son beg him for a second chance by going through a portal had brought back too many painful memories he hadn't been able to express, and that his fear of ending up like his own father had caused him to do the very thing of which he'd been so utterly afraid.

It didn't excuse Rumplestiltskin's behavior in the least, but it certainly explained it.

"So that's why you didn't want to use the bean," Bae sighed when his father's explanation was done, "It wasn't about your magic, it was about what happened with your father."

Rumplestiltskin's whole body shook, the relief of finally telling the truth a heavy weight lifted. But there was still more to tell, and now that he had the chance, he wasn't going to squander it. "I won't lie and say it wasn't about the magic. I didn't want to let go of it. I finally had power to protect my family, and I let that corrupt everything. Instead of trusting in us, I put my trust in magic, and let it take over. But I made you a deal!" He added quickly, wanting to make sure his son understood, "Had it been anything else, I would have done it. But that portal….I just….I couldn't. I'm sorry, son."

Bae sat for a long time, reflecting on his father's words. He believed him, but it didn't change the fact that he was still hurt. Knowing his father was sorry didn't take away half a year of starvation and living on the streets. But it did prove that his father was a good man. His mother had always believed that, and now he did too.

"I'm still angry," Bae whispered at length, "And I'm going to be angry for a while."

"I understand son."

His father's easy acceptance of his anger shocked him, causing him to add, "But I can't lie and say I'm not really happy you're here."

"I'll spend my life making it up to you, Bae," Rumple pledged, "I'll do whatever it takes, I promise."

Shaking his head, Baelfire moved his hands away from his father and placed the tea cup on the table. "I don't want more promises and lifetimes of apologies," Bae said, "I just….I just want to know that you've changed, and that we can be together."

"I have. I know it'll take time for that to be proven, but I have changed. And I'll be here for as long as you want me. The same applies to your mother, I'm sure."

Bae nodded. "That's all I ever wanted."

Looking down, Bae met his father's eyes, which were filled with such fear and hope that Bae couldn't resist the urge to comfort his father. For all that had happened, his Papa had only ever done the things he'd done out of love, and while Bae was angry, he was equally grateful for the man his father was. They had a long way to go; there was a lot that was yet to be said; but now Bae had a foundation on which to rebuild a solid relationship with his father. And he wasn't going to let that opportunity go to waste.

~000~

A week after his reunion with his parents, Baelfire found himself in the sitting room staring out the window at the night sky. It was nearly two in the morning, but Bae found himself unable to sleep. Ever since his talk with his father, things had been good in the house; there were still moments of hesitancy, and both his parents seemed intent to never leave him alone. Not that he blamed them. It was strange to suddenly look up and see the familiar face of his mother or father there, instead of the kind but foreign face of one of the Darling adults. They'd been kind to him, but they'd never quite felt like family, not the way Wendy, John, and Michael had. He missed them, despite their coming over for supper earlier that day. It had been a nice evening, but now Bae was feeling restless.

He missed the sounds of the nursery; Michael shaking Wendy awake when he had a nightmare, Wendy soothing his fears with a silly story or song. Nana's breathing and tail thumbing against the floor like a drumbeat. It had become a place of sanctuary, and Baelfire missed it terribly.

He had no desire to go back, not really. He was happy to be with his parents, but he felt that, no matter how good things were between them, that they would never be the same again. How could they? They were in a new world with no magic, and no one familiar save the Darlings. But not even they knew the whole story. Of course the children believed in magic, but Bae had been reluctant to tell them just how justified their belief was. He'd let it go, but he had no one to talk to about what he'd endured, and it reminded him of the deep chasm of loneliness he felt that separated him from the rest of the world. He could only tell his parents so much. He wished he could confide in someone who understood.

"Can't sleep either?"

Bae looked up to see his mother standing at the doorway, two steaming mugs in her hand. She joined him on the sofa and handed one to him. One sniff told him it was hot cocoa, and he smiled appreciatively at his mother.

"Thanks."

They drank in silence, then, placing her cup on the table, Belle pulled something out of the pocket of her robe.

"I am ashamed to say I nearly forgot about these until a few minutes ago. I'm glad I caught you up. I should have given them to you the moment you stepped into this house."

She held out the items, and Bae took them, surprised to see they were letters. He glanced up at his mother who pointed to the top one. "Read that one last."

Confused by her request, he let that one fall to his lap, then proceeded to open the other letter. After struggling for a moment, he put his own drink down and broke the seal, unfolding it to see the scribbles of-

"Anna!"

Belle giggled. "Yes."

Bae paused. "That means the other one's from-"

"Yes."

Bae looked away for a moment, then composed himself, and lifted the letter to the moonlight to read. While he did, Belle stood and lit a few candles to make the task easier. While she moved, Bae laughed at something in the letter. She sat back down across from Bae just as he finished, and he smiled at her toothily. "I miss her," he said shaking his head. Anna had always made him laugh, and reading her letter had given him the lift he needed.

He looked down to his lap, where Moraine's letter lay. With a shaking hand he picked it up, opening the letter and reading it slowly.

_Bae,_

_I don't have a lot of time and there is so much I want to say. But your father is leaving soon so I must be brief._

_I miss you. There is an emptiness in my heart that your absence has left, and I can only hope that one day I will see you again, and this ache will go away. I hope that doesn't sound selfish. I don't want to be selfish, but I wish for nothing as much as I wish to see you again._

_I should have told you sooner, but I love you. And I know you feel – or at least felt – the same. And that brings me a small comfort. But I wanted you to know, once your parents find you again as I know they will, that I love you very much._

_I have so much else I want to say, but I will wait until the day when I see you again. Because I refuse to believe otherwise. Please be well, and stay safe, Baelfire. Know you are loved._

_-Moraine_

Bae looked up from the letter to see Belle watching him, a knowing smile on her face.

"You were right," Bae sighed, glancing down at the letter, "I should have told her."

"She knew."

"It's not the same."

"No," Belle said, moving closer and pulling Bae to lean against her, "But at least she knows. And who knows, maybe one day we'll figure out a way to go back."

"I thought that was impossible?"

Belle shrugged, "We thought getting to _you_ was impossible. And yet, here we are."

"You and Papa haven't told me how you got here."

"We've been catching up with you. And your father didn't want to rush things. He wanted you to ask in your own time."

"Can you tell me now?"

"Some," she agreed, "But I think this is a conversation best left for all of us."

"No time like the present, then."

Belle and Bae looked up to see Rumple dressed in his nightgown and robe, cane in one hand, candle in the other. He stepped forward and Bae moved over to give his father some room. He took the proffered seat, leaving Bae sandwiched between mother and father. He seemed content though, and watched his father in the dim light.

"It all started with a curse," Rumple began. Bae's eyes widened.

"A curse!"

Belle pressed her finger over Bae's lips, playfully shushing him. "Your father's telling a story," she whispered, "Let's listen."

Bae did listen. And the story his father told him left him amazed.

"So what happened to the curse?" He asked when at last the tale was finished.

"Destroyed," Rumple told him, "No one will ever be able to use it."

Bae let out a sigh of relief. "Good." After a moment, he said, "I'm glad you found another way."

"Thank your mother, son," Rumple smirked, "We wouldn't be here if not for her."

"You didn't have to use it though," Bae said, "You chose the better path."

"I'm trying to be a better man," Rumple admitted, "Though I may be working on that for a long time."

Bae leaned forward, out of his mother's embrace, and hugged his father. "I think you've made a decent start," he said before standing and yawning.

"I think I'm finally tired," he said. "I'm going to go to bed."

His parents agreed, and after several hugs and kisses, Baelfire went back to his quiet room where he let his thoughts wander to the Enchanted Forest and Moraine. He wondered if he could ask his father about finding a way back to see her, even if it was temporary. It couldn't hurt to try.

Rolling onto his side, Bae went to sleep, Moraine's letter clutched in his hand. He didn't feel so lonely anymore.

~000~

Once they were tucked into their own bed, Belle sighed. "I've missed this."

Rumple, for his part, was only half asleep. "Missed what?"

"Having our whole family together."

"It is quite a wondrous feeling to know our son is only a room away," Rumple agreed.

"He's grown so much," Belle mused, "He's practically a man now."

"A man we're both quite proud of, I think."

Belle hummed in agreement. "It's quite amazing, how far we've all come."

Rumplestiltskin allowed himself to dwell on that thought. He recalled a day many years ago when he'd awoke feeling helpless and hopeless. He'd been alone and despised, having nothing to look forward to in life. Then Belle had swept in, bringing with her life, light, and love. Then she'd given him a son, whom his whole world revolved around. For so long, Rumplestiltskin couldn't imagine life without his boy. Then he'd lived through that very nightmare.

Now they were reunited. Despite everything, against all the odds, Rumplestiltskin had overcome every obstacle, including himself, and now had everything he could ever want. Living in London wasn't ideal, but it was a much better life than that of a reviled peasant's son or an all-feared Dark One. Here, he could be just a man, with a lovely wife and handsome son, and a respectable reputation. He realized then he would need to do something to occupy his time now, and thought of several business opportunities that might be of merit. He'd run them by his family in the morning, and see what they thought. He would do things right this time around, he decided firmly. He would be a man his family could be proud of.

He would be a man _he_ could be proud of. And he knew, as he wrapped his arms around his wife, that no matter what path he chose to walk, whatever mountains he climbed or valleys he traversed, his family –his _whole_ family - would be by his side.

"Yes," he answered quietly, "It's quite amazing, indeed."

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it…
> 
> Thank you everyone who took the time to read this story! I'm extremely honored and grateful for your support and your kind words. This has been an incredible journey, and while I'm sad to see it end, I'm also proud to say I've completed my second novel-length work. :-D
> 
> Now for some housekeeping:
> 
> For a long time I debated on what I would do after The Valley came to an end. Do I step away and work on some original ideas? Do I just take a break? After some internal debating, I can happily share with you that I am beginning work on a new Rumbelle fic, which is currently untitled. It will be another FTL AU, full of political intrigue. I look forward to sharing it with you. However, November is a busy month for me (my birthday, thanksgiving, my father's birthday, the Rumbelle Secret Santa on Tumblr, and continued remodeling of my house) so I can't guarantee when posting will start.
> 
> So keep an eye out here for that. I've got the whole thing worked out, it's just a matter of sitting down to actually write it. (And it's only 18 chapters – MUCH shorter than my two other multi-chapter fics!)
> 
> Additionally, I have an ongoing series on my Tumblr page, for those who are interested in more from me until the new fic begins. It's called Tales from the Driver's Seat, a prompt series which focuses on the lives of stage and screen actor John Gold and his personal driver, Belle French. I will be posting the series on here at some point, I just haven't gotten around to it yet. So far there are 20+ installments, so feel free to check that out and leave a prompt if you wish! My tumblr name is the same as this one, so I shouldn't be too hard to find.
> 
> That's all for now. Again, thank you everyone for sharing this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's hard to say goodbye to The Valley, as it's very dear to my heart, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
> 
> Until next time, dears.
> 
> -Woubazoid
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or its characters. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. Some dialogue in this story is taken directly from the episodes. I claim no ownership of those lines. All original characters, events, and places belong to me.
> 
> Chapter 2 will be posted October 25!


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